Keep breathing
by kajsavi
Summary: AU. A teenage Ziva comes to America by orders from her father. She's broken and battered inside when she meets Tony, a boy who will help her open her eyes. He shows her the good and the bad with life, but is everything really as it seems?
1. Against all odds

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

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><p>Chapter 1, "Against all odds"<p>

"_So take a look at me now,_

_There's just an empty space,_

_There's nothing left here to remind me,_

_Just the memory of your face."_

She had always wanted to be able to tell people who asked her from where she was; "I'm a citizen of the world." If you could say that, then you're the kind of person she would have wanted to end up like. Because she had always been trapped in a body of someone who was never supposed to be free. It was her one, true dream; to walk around with her head held high and to just be noticed. Because she had always just been one in the group her whole life. Where she came from, there was always someone better and stronger and more qualified than her.

She had always wanted to be the person people would like and want to learn to know. She had always wanted to explore different places in the world and learn new things. She had always wanted to be the person who sits on a balcony a late summer day, and just write down things in a book that no one else was ever going to see. She never wanted to be the person in the movies who wasn't significant to the storyline; the person who was there just because. She wanted to be the lead character.

Or at least it used to be her dream.

When her mother died, things changed radically. And when both her sister and brother had died, everything that hadn't already changed, changed. And the thing that made everything worse was that she really wasn't good at adjusting herself to new situations. And you can really say that a situation has changed when you go from the top, to the bottom in one night. Almost literally. When it happened, she could practically feel herself falling.

The afternoon her Mom never came home, was an ordinary day. She had minded her own business, being in school, coming home, train for a mission, doing whatever she did (What she actually did was a blur to her now) and then getting a phone call. This phone call wasn't like any other. Though she didn't remember the words that were spoken on the other line, she did remember that it was terrible. That was when the fall began.

She had tried to grab onto something. She had been waiting for someone to offer their hand for support, but nothing had even come and nothing helped her, and she fell. Like Alice, she fell, and fell, and didn't know when it would end.

When her sister and brother died… well, another story that was. She'd had a sister and a brother. Now she had neither. She had always had siblings. Now they were both gone, and she would never see them anymore.

So, these days she found herself wondering how she ended up where she was. She had brutally changed her appearance. And her personality. And the way people looked at her. Suddenly people didn't want to even see to her. Suddenly her head was sulking; she wasn't looking people in the eyes and she wasn't even talking. She shut down to the world and isolated herself. It was her coping mechanism; to just not… feel anything. She was the pained girl.

When she'd come home, she'd go to her room, shut the door and she would lock it, because that's what you do when you want to be alone. Then she would sit on the bed and stare into the air in front of her, waiting it to shape into a person who would guide her back to who she used to be. Though this never happened, it was the one thing she never stopped waiting for. This behavior went on and on, until her father finally decided on where she should live. She was only sixteen, so she had been living in the old house that still had the lingering presence of her lost family members in it; and she couldn't escape. Her father had promised that he would find another place for her to sleep as soon as he could, but she knew that it could take several years before he would actually get himself to get into her situation.

Oh boy, was she wrong.

He found a place for her. In Washington D.C in America. With an NCIS agent, by the name Jennifer Shepard. Of all the things Ziva had ever thought of her father, she would never have suspected that he'd send her out of the country as soon as he got the chance. But even when she had been forced to leave from her home, her country, she hadn't shown one second of emotion on her face. She hadn't said goodbye to her father, or to the few friends she left behind; she just grabbed her bag and walked onto the airplane that would take her away from anything she had even known as her own.

Jenny was a nice woman in her late 30's. She had welcomed Ziva with a hug and a big smile, and in the car to her apartment, she had tried to have a conversation with the troubled girl. Of course, she had failed terribly and she did realize that, so when they reached her home she had told Ziva that she knew how it was to lose a loved one, a parent, and if she needed anything she could come to her.

Then she had taken Ziva to her guest room, which Jenny had made up for her, and before she left for work she handed the teen a key to the apartment, and all her phone numbers.

The apartment was very nice, no one could argue with that. Outside there was a park, where Ziva ended up spending most of her time. The park didn't have many visitors at all, but it was not deserted, a perfect place for someone like Ziva, who really just wanted to be left alone. Being alone was her thing.

So there she was sitting. Being gloomy, writing in her black notebook the word _"ridiculous"_ over and over again, and hating the fact that she now only dressed in black and that Washington was so hot in July, and that she had chosen the one park bench that was directly under the sun. She made the letters in the word sharper and harder when she felt tears behind her eyes, and rounder and softer whenever she felt fine. This was something she could do for hours. Usually she chose a word in the English language that she didn't like very much; but then in the end she ended up liking it when she had covered fifteen pages of it in her notebook. It was a pathetic thing to do, really, but it was something she… well, certainly not _liked_, since she didn't like anything anymore, but tolerated. It was a routine that would drive Jenny to insanity later on.

Ziva hated Jenny for having such an ordinary name. And she hated her for taking her in. And she hated her for being nice to her. And she hated her because she was nice. And caring. She hated Jenny for trying to get her to talk, which was something Ziva didn't do anymore. This was something that had worried all her friends in Israel, and the house maid. But if Ziva could, she'd tell them all not to sweat it; it wasn't like she could get more miserable than she already was.

The clock ticked closer and closer to four o'clock; which was when Jenny usually wanted her back to the apartment for dinner, and to check her for self-harmed injuries. She wrote a 'D' so hard that it made a hole in the paper. She wanted to swear a well out chosen curse word, but didn't because it would hurt too much. So, she just continued with the word in a softer way, making the word look silly. She didn't care because there's nothing left to care about in her dark world filled with sadness and black rainbows.

A pair of black shoes appear in front of her. She wishes for them to keep walking, and disappear, but they don't. Forced to look up at the intruder, she feels numb. A boy. A brown-haired, fabulous boy stands there. She's not sure how old he is, but she dares to guess that he is just her age. Her face impression must be confused, because he smiles and says very fast forwardly, "Hello. I'm Tony."

Tony. What a stupid little name, she thinks as he puts his hand out and expects Ziva to shake it. She stares at it as if she's hoping for her eyes to burn a hole into it, but when she doesn't succeed she uses her well restored voice and replies to him,

"I do not shake hands."

"A bitter person, are you now? Or maybe you're just afraid of germs?" He smiles at her with a smile that she should be swooning over. She still doesn't feel anything, so she looks down at the notebook again and finish writing the unfinished 'ridiculous' at the top of the new page. She tries to ignore him until he goes away. She sits, and prays for him to just vanish, so she won't have to use her voice again. "I've seen you here every day since last month. I've wanted to talk to you."

She sighs. Loudly. So he will hear it. She really doesn't need this. "Well, great."

He chuckles and sits down beside her. The bold move was very, very uninvited for her part; she just want to shove him off the bench into the dry grass under it. And she knew she could. "Somehow you don't seem like the kind of person who would ever say the word 'great'." He says, and her urge to get him away rises to her throat, and almost chokes her. She wants to scream an ugly word at him or make him disappear into thin air, but instead she hides behind her dark curtain of hair.

Determined not to answer him, she once again returns to her notebook; which she had absent mindedly slammed shut. For the first time she notices how ink-stained the pages with the word 'ridiculous' are. She looks down at her fingers on her right hand, and they are covered with deep blue ink from her ball point pen. She had broken it, and hadn't even realized. She sighed, and tried to get off some of the blueness on her black cargo pants, but it was hopeless since it had already dried.

She had broken a _pen_.

"You don't like to talk? Bummer." Tony was pressing her to use words, to open her mouth and let out a sound.

Bummer? What did he mean by that? She wondered, because she didn't understand English idioms and slangs too well. She felt confused and looked up at him a little. Her hair was still protecting her face, but Tony got a glimpse of her. She was _beautiful_.

"Y'know, I'd swear I know you from somewhere." He said, trying to get her attention even more. Granted, he failed and she looked back down at her lap. Apparently she wanted to keep her roots hidden. And her name. And her face. "I'm not dangerous."

Ziva was determined not to say anything. But she couldn't help but think that Tony was indeed very good looking. And he seemed nice. But he _tried_. He tried to talk to her, and to get to know her. Like Jenny. Therefore, Ziva felt that the only right thing to do was to stand up from the bench and hurry away. This was what she did. She stood up, and grabbed the black bag she carried with her everywhere, and controlled her steps to take her far away from there. Or at least, to Jenny's apartment.

She heard someone behind her, and it didn't take long for her to realize that it was Tony who was following her. She – once again – wanted to yell at him, to tell him to back off and leave her alone, but she couldn't. So she kept walking, faster and faster. She was just about to start running when Tony said from behind her,

"I guess I'll see you later, then."

And she ran. She ran as fast as she would during her training for Mossad. She ran, and ran, until she reached her goal and fumbled with the key and the lock to the door that would lead her inside of her American home. And while she was trying to open the door as silently as she could, she couldn't help but look a little forward to the next time Tony would come around.

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><p><strong>This is really a very, very weird story. And I know the writing is terrible in this chapter, but I hope you'll stick around til' the next chapter.<strong>

**Reviews are always appreciated.**

**-Kajsa**


	2. What are you looking for?

Wow! The response to this story was amazing, the best I've ever gotten! Thank you everyone who reviewed, alerted and/or favorited this, it really means a lot to me! It keeps me going.

So, I will definitely not update this often in the future. Hopefully, it'll be regularly, but not this often. I mean, I already have chapter 3 and 4 written, but I like to be a little ahead.

Thanks everyone, again. It means so much.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

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><p>Chapter 2, "What are you looking for?"<p>

"_I walk the line of the disappointed_

_I celebrate when I'm in pain_

_My heart and mind can be disjointed_

_I built a bed in this hole I made"_

The next day, Ziva was minding her own business while walking down towards the park, and her bench. She was happy to notice that today her bench wasn't directly under the sun; or at least not at the moment, and she felt like this could be a quite tolerable day. While she walked, she was choosing the day's word to write in her notebook, and she was picking between 'medieval' and 'egoist'. It certainly was a hard pick; she wasn't sure which one would fit this day better. But she settled for 'egoist', because she hated that word. She felt a little happier now that the day's biggest problem was solved, and she dared to let herself hoped that today would be a day totally without a handsome intruder.

She reached the newly painted, white bench, and sat down. Her bag was seated beside herself as usual – daring anyone to move it and sit down beside her -, and she crossed her legs. She placed the notebook onto her right leg that was over her left one, and picked up her new, black ball point pen. She let it rest against the paper for a while before she wrote the first 'egoist' onto it.

She wasn't feeling it.

Usually, she got a kick from writing the new word for the first time, but now she was just numb to the feeling. She looked around in the park, to look after someone who used some kind of voodoo to ruin the only good part of her day, but no one else but she was there. It was, after all, six o'clock in the morning. No one else but her would be up and away this time of the day; especially in July.

She made a mental decision to stand up and walk to the beach. She hadn't been there yet, and it was only a few yards away from the park. In the middle of the day she could always hear little kids screaming with glee at the water, and older kids screaming at each other for cheating at volleyball. Though Ziva wasn't sure what volleyball was. But she suspected it was some kind of meaningless, American pastime. Like baseball. She didn't like baseball anymore. She used to, when her father taught her to throw the ball the right way, but then she had been flung into Mossad and it wasn't fun anymore.

Her black military boots scraped against the sand when she reached the beach, and if she hadn't been who she was, she would have smiled. But she didn't.

She only forced her steps towards the water. It was still a little dark, but in only a couple of minutes the sun would be out from hiding behind the trees, and the day would have officially begun. At around 10 o'clock, the younger kids would start to come, and at around noon the teenagers would arrive in their flip-flops and bikinis. She would make sure she was far away from there then. She just couldn't stand to see other people being happy. It hurt too much.

But she was safe from the happy people for now, and she sat down onto the cold sand. Later that day, it would probably be so hot you couldn't walk on it without burning your feet. But she wouldn't be there then, she knew. She would be safely locked into her room in Jenny's apartment, with her notebook and her laptop; ready to write her father an angry email at any time. Not that she would ever do it. She wouldn't be able to read his response, where he would tell her that she wasn't as good of a daughter as Tali had been, or that he wasn't proud of her like he had been of Ari.

Ziva drew a heart in the sand beside her. It was detailed and well-drawn, pretty even.

But she _hated_ her father.

So her hand flew over the sand and removed every piece of evidence that the heart ever being there in the first place. In its place, she drew a just as detailed skull. And under it she wrote, 'egoist'.

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><p>After that, she laid down in the sand, and watched as the sun appeared over the treetops. She counted the seconds until it was totally out from hiding, and was happy with the result. Sixty-seven seconds of her life had been wasted on something beautiful. She felt proud of herself; maybe she wasn't as hopeless as everyone silently thought. She closed her eyes.<p>

"Isn't it a _tad_ early to be here?"

_Tony. _

Ziva had _hoped_ that she wouldn't see him today. Hoping means _nothing_.

"'Cause, I mean… any normal person would be sound asleep right now."

_His stupid voice and his stupid words and his stupid name and his stupid…_

"Well, that would mean that I'm not normal… which of course, I'm not because I'm… heh… very special. Yeah. So, would you tell me something about yourself, right about now? I feel a rant coming on, and that's more a thing that my sister would do. She rants a lot. And she's the happiest Goth in the world. She dresses a lot like you, though I believe she has more… knick-knacks…"

_Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up…_

"Though I don't see the things with dressing like that in the middle of the summer, when it's really, very warm. Yeah… she sweats a lot. That's why she stays inside mostly, but I'm glad 'cause that means I won't bump into her while I'm with my friends or anythin' like that. That would be awkward… she hates me most of the time. But she loves me, I mean, I'm her brother. She couldn't hate me, and also, why aren't you talking to me, or even looking at me? I know you're not asleep, though…"

_Say another word and I will rip your head off and throw it into the sea, and leave your body here without clothes on for the public to look at…_

"… I know these things, you see. Yeah. I'm good like that, yeah I'm gonna be an investigator…"

"SHUT. UP." She jumped up from her position of lying down with the speed of lightning, and she stared at him intensely. Her eyes were narrow as she tried to estimate his exact height and weight, and how hard she would have to punch the first time so it would be fatal.

Tony on the other hand, was taken aback; she had spoken! A miracle had been given him! He wasn't talking to himself anymore, she had answered. He was very pleased, and kept talking in hope that she would keep talking; or at least keep telling him to shut up. "Oh, would you look at that. Not only can she act like she's dead, she speaks too! This is amazing; this shall be written in the history books! I'll make it happen, just let me run to the Smithsonian, don't go anywhere-"

"Are you ALWAYS this annoying, Tony?"

He choked on his next words. She had said his name. Not only had she remembered, but she had talked even more. And he couldn't help but think that it sounded very nice to hear his name come from her lips. He smiled and hoped that she would smile back. Of course, she didn't, the corners of her mouth stayed down.

"That depends on who you ask…" Tony replied, trying to hide that he was in awe. He scratched the back of his neck nervously because her eyes were making him shiver, and he was intimidated by her. Gibbs hadn't been kidding.

"Then who should I ask? Your _sister_?" Ziva wasn't annoyed, she was set to kill. Her voice was as icy as her veins.

"Please don't. You'll just scare her with that… death glare of yours. It's actually making me a… heh… little uneasy."

Ziva softened her expression a little. Though she had meant to scare him, and to make him nervous, she still felt a little guilty when he actually said something about it. She felt a little ashamed, and let her head fall down a little; with her hair covering her face. She sat herself down in the sand again, to show Tony that she was not interested to talk with him more, but she was still _sure_ he would stay. He seemed like a very determined person, and she didn't know how she felt about this, but her feelings were a lot and she didn't know how she would take handle it. She hadn't felt so many things at once since her brother died, and even then she was cold and hadn't done anything about it.

She missed him. Her brother; there was no one she missed more. Not even Tali, because Ari had been her big _brother_. He was always there for her, for better or worse and he had promised that he would never leave her. Though he did, in the end. She was angry with him for that.

"Hey," said Tony suddenly, and got Ziva to jump a little. She had actually forgotten that he stood there behind her, and she wasn't happy to remember it either. He didn't notice, however, her little reaction, and continued to speak. "What's up with you? You don't talk to anybody; you ignore people who try to be nice. It's as if you're in your own world all the time and don't want anyone to find you. Have you lost someone you love, or what? Why are you so closed?"

Her eyes were wide open, even if he couldn't see it. _How could he?_ "How dare you?"

He was confused and asked honestly. "What?"

She rose slowly, to get him to prepare himself for what she would yell at him. She gathered her unused voice and cried with a loud voice, "How dare you? Where are you from? Do not ask such a thing from me!"

"Why are you screaming? And what? Was I right?"

Her eyes filled with tears but she didn't even noticed; she just wanted to give him a slap. She wanted to hit him so hard that his own eyes filled with tears from breathing difficulties. She wanted to kick him and give him bruises. She wanted to see him bleed. But she did nothing, instead she lowered herself down and took a hard grip onto her bag and threw it over her shoulder before she hurried away from him. Like she had done the day before.

There sun was now halfway to the top, and everything was bright and green, and she could see everything, so when she looked back at Tony, as she saw that he looked a little crushed.

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><p>"Seriously Gibbs. She's a nutcase! She started to yell and shout at me all of sudden and I was totally unprepared."<p>

"What did you do?"

"Nothing?"

"_What_ did you do?"

"… I just asked about her family."

"Didn't I tell you to stay away from that? She has no family."

"Well, it got her talking, didn't it?"

"Well, you've gotta keep tryin'. She ain't talking to Jenny yet, so you go back tomorrow."

"Can you remind me of _why_ I'm doing this again?"

"'Cause I told you to."

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><p><strong>Reviews are always appreciated.<strong>


	3. Let me go

I can't keep myself from updating when I have you lovely people reviewing! Thank you everybody, so, so much! It means a lot to me that you care enough to review, because I am not myself a big reviewer and therefore it makes me very, very happy when anyone of you take time to give me a thought. So, if you have a question or anything, don't hesitate to ask!**  
><strong>

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

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><p>Chapter 3, "Let me go"<p>

"_And no matter how hard I try_

_I can't escape these things inside_

_I know, _

_But all the pieces fall apart_

_And you will be the only one who knows,"_

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><p><em><strong>About one week later. Or something.<strong>_

Ziva was used to be alone. Well, it was something she'd had to adjust herself to, but now it was her daily life. _Alone. _Always by herself on the bench, with her faithful notebook and ballpoint _before_, she had rarely been alone; she had been training for Mossad where she had many, many friends. She'd had her sister and brother, and her loving mother. If she had felt alone before, it was really just nice to get silence for a moment. She had loved her life then, even if her father was a kind of bastard.

But now she was _only_ alone. If she ever was in the same room as anyone else, it was a surprise and she had to walk away from there so she wouldn't get _used to it_. She genuinely didn't like people anymore, but still there was something that bugged her about a _real person._

**Tony.**

At first, she had been annoyed with him. She had planned his murder many, many times. She had cursed him and wanted to see him hurt. She had hated his voice, his hair, his _everything_. Whenever he even looked at her she wanted to reach out to break his nose. She could do it, easily. But it would just hurt too much to do something she would have liked, so she never raised her hand. Sometimes she had to shove the hands into her pockets and keep her fists clenched, but still. She never hurt him.

So he kept coming to bother her. Every day at the crack of dawn he came to sit beside her on her bench in the park. And every day he looked even more tired than the day before, and one particular Saturday he had been very cranky and not really up to talk, so he had just been sitting there at her side, not speaking. And after a few days with the same beginning in the morning, Ziva found herself _actually_… liking it. Sometimes their arms would touch, and because of that, she had taken of her military jacket and come down to the bench in just a top; so she'd feel his body warmth heat up her cold skin. Even if it was only for a second they touched, her insides felt soft and she wanted to smile for that split second, but he would never notice. Her eyes would drift to the spot on her arm where she had bumped into him, and she would _feel_ something.

So, she had started to talk to him. At first, she just replied with one worded answers, like "_yes.", "no", "quiet"_, and even once, _"probably." _This encouraged him to ask her even more things, hoping for better answers. And so on the fifth day of her only answering with one word, she's shot him a question back.

"_So… is not Gibbs your real father?"_

He'd been chatting endlessly about his family. His little sister, Abby the Happy Goth and Gibbs, the Fearless Leader. Around the time he told Ziva about Gibbs, he mentioned that it was a _'miracle he had even become a father at all. Like seriously, there has to have been something wron__g with… the genes, for Abby to turn out so… _excited_ all the time. She's crazy.' _Of course, when Tony had spoken those words he hoped that she would notice the _small_ detail, and she surely did. That was when she had asked him her first real question. He had been taken aback, stunned beyond words, but he recovered fast and soon he was explaining to her that his dad was just a big asshole, and that Gibbs was taking care of him so he wouldn't become a mean drunk like his real dad.

Ziva had been surprised herself. She hadn't meant to ask him something. She hadn't planned to even really speak to him, to make conversation. She hadn't expected to show interest, or actually be _interested_ in his life. She had been quiet for a while longer when Tony kept talking about his family like it was nothing out of the ordinary. She wanted to share something from her life too, but somehow it wasn't like her body would allow her to get personal with Tony, even though she had spoken more words to him the past few days than she had with anyone in about a year.

The days kept passing, and it certainly encouraged Tony even more to keep showing up at the bench every morning when Ziva now was dropping random questions every now and then. He was always overly excited to answer them, and once when she had asked him why he liked to talk to her so much, he could have _sworn_ she smiled – though he was never sure if she did or did not - at his reply;

"_I like to talk to you, 'cause it's always a mystery if you're gonna answer or not. It keeps me going."_

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><p>"Would you like to do something today?" Tony looked to the side, at Ziva. She wasn't writing in her notebook anymore since Tony came along, and he took that as a good sign.<p>

Confused, she asked, "Something?"

"_Something._ See a movie. Go to the beach. Meet my family. Meet _your_ family. Anything but sitting on this bench."

She wasn't sure what to say. Usually when she took a while to answer, it was because she was figuring out the shortest way to reply, but this time it was because she wasn't sure what she wanted. She really liked Tony's company, no doubt there, but still; all they had ever done was sitting on the bench and talk. There was no real depth in their relationship, which made Ziva unsure if she really could trust him. She had thought about that many, many times in the past week, but she had never come to a sane answer to it. Of _course_ she could trust him.

Right?

What did she _really_ know about him?

Okay. Well, he had a kind of… foster family. He liked movies, and music. He wanted to be an investigator for the NCIS. He had a lot of American pride, but was still open for all kinds of cultures. He liked football, and baseball. Ohio State. He was charming. He seemed to like her.

That was about it. Because when he talked about himself, he kept himself on the first stage of personal. Family members, school, movies, music. Shallow topics that didn't really give her any insight into his life. But still, he was opening up to her.

She noticed that he was expecting her answer, so she decided to say, "I do not have a family, Tony."

"Well, that is not an option then. But what about _watching a movie_? Yeah, that's a _great_ thing to do when you're bored, do you not agree, _Zee-vah_?"

Every time he overemphasized a word, Ziva cracked a knuckle. It was her nervous habit, to press down her finger against her palm until the familiar crack came, and move onto the next finger. She didn't know why she did it, but she liked the sound. It assured her that she actually had a skeleton and wasn't all made of jelly whenever Tony said her name. Even when he pulled out the syllables.

"I am not bored." She tried again, to win more time to think about it.

"You're not?" Tony asked. At first he sounded surprised, but then he probably remembered who he was talking to, and changed his words, "Oh well. I thought it would be nice with a change. This bench really isn't comfortable after three hours of sitting on it." Ziva did _no__t_ agree. She had been sitting on it for well over one month, and she still thought it was perfectly comfortable.

But she knew that it would probably be good for her wellbeing to get up and maybe do something else for a while. This thought was completely foreign to her, and she was taken aback by herself; why would she ever think anything like that? If you leave what you're comfortable with, things are bound to turn out badly. And the thing was that she really didn't want to leave the park and her bench, because this was where she knew nobody could hurt her.

But still there was something tempting with leaving it with Tony. He would take her someplace new, someplace where she would be with _him_, and no one else. And he wouldn't let anything happen to her or anything like that… would he?

Of course not.

"I suppose a movie would be… okay." She spoke, and was surprised at her own voice sounding so normal. Because inside she was feeling queasy.

"Awesome!" He exclaimed as he jumped to his feet. He picked up her bag like a gentleman from the ground and said, "I've noticed by the way, how your bag isn't on the bench anymore. Hehe. I've made a change with you." He gloated.

This was something Ziva had noticed too. How she never put the bag on beside her on the bench anymore because that would be like she didn't want Tony to come to her, which she did. Very much. So now, it was always safely seated beside her feet, and it seemed like it was comfortable there.

She stood up and smiled because he knew he was right.

Oh, wait.

Tony looked at her like she was a zombie. His eyes were huge and staring at her lips like they were going to jump up at him and eat him whole. She _smiled. _She hadn't smiled to him before. Not even when he had made his crude jokes, she hadn't let the corners of her lips move even a little bit, because it would break her facade. He wanted to stutter out, 'Y-y-you s-smiled', but he couldn't because he was just too stunned. He felt like he was made of marble when his facial features didn't cooperate.

Because all his head could think was how he wanted to see her beautiful smile once more.

There was something exotic about it, something that made his insides curl up and release butterflies into his stomach. There was something with the way her eyes twinkled for the second the smile lasted, and the way her face seemed to light up with an unknown light.

But there was nothing he could say. His lips wouldn't move and his body wouldn't help him. He was staring at her like a fool in love. He straightened himself up with great difficulty and nodded his head in the direction of his home and mumbled, "It's that way." And he began to walk there, with her bag slung over his shoulder, and the whole walk home he would think about Ziva's lips.

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><p>Well, Ziva started to walk behind him, because she didn't want to disappoint him. So she would keep her feet walking behind him, following him. But every second of it was a fight with herself, to keep herself from running back to her familiar bench and the place she knew wouldn't leave her. But she didn't want to disappoint him. But who was he to force her to do something she didn't want to? He didn't know anything about her, not <em>one<em> thing. She hadn't revealed even a small thing about herself and her former life in Israel, even though he had asked her. Even though he had told her things about himself, things that are usually followed with the other person answering the same question, she had kept herself closed up and intact. She hadn't poured her feelings out to him, because she wasn't sure how he would respond, and if he responded by leaving her, she wouldn't be able to go back to just writing in her notebook and not talking to anyone. It would hurt too much.

And even though Tony hadn't told her his deepest secrets either, he hadn't been keeping everything from her, like she was keeping things from him. So really, she _was_ disappointing him. He just didn't realize.

The walk home to Tony was very silent, and Ziva started to wonder why she had ever liked this so much? To be in the company of someone and not talk at all. Since she met Tony she had certainly started to talk more, but not with _anyone_ but him. Not that she was alone with much other people than him either.

He was walking stiffly in front of her. She was confused, since he had seemed pretty stiff since she had agreed to come with him. Had she said something…? No. Definitely not. She barely talked at all, so when would she possibly have time to say something wrong? Exactly. But still there was something off. He wasn't his usual himself. She was even more confused, because she couldn't think of one thing that would make him uncomfortable! The guy talked loudly about sex, what on earth you make him go uneasy?

After a while of walking in silence, Ziva was starting to debate with herself if she should say anything, and just when she was opening her mouth to ask him what was wrong, he turned around and said, "Wait here."

They had stopped outside a house. It was an ordinary house, for sure, and there was not much that would make it unique form all the other houses in the neighborhood. She looked in Tony's direction, but he had already left for the door, and he closed it with a big slam. He had brought her bag with him.

Ziva couldn't help but jump a little at the _bam_. No matter how much she tried denying it in her mind, it had reminded her of a bomb. But why the hell would a door closing extraordinarily hard, make her think of one of the many suicide bombings she had witnessed, and also, been injured in? She didn't know, but she did know, that she was in America now. And her nothing bad would happen to her, because Tony wouldn't let anything cause her to want to go back home. She was _sure_ of that.

After fifteen minutes alone, trying not to think anything, she started to ask the universe, where Tony was? Why was he taking so long? And what business did he have in the house before she came into it? While she thought these things, she couldn't help but think about how used to being with Tony she had become. How used to having him there she was.

_She was _used_ to having him there._

_**Oh no.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews are always appreciated.<strong>_**  
><strong>_


	4. No sensitivity

Hello everybody! I couldn't keep myself from updating again, thank to all of you wonderful people who review my story! It makes my inside go all warm and fuzzy.

Sadly, I don't know how long it will take for me to update again. I have half of the next chapter written, and that's great right? Yeah, but I was just to London alright, and at Heathrow I accidentally (who am I kidding? Totally on purpose) bought every season of Dexter so... I'll be occupied with that for quite a while.

Don't worry though. I'll keep updating. This story will not be left by me.

Also at the same time here, I'd like to acknowledge the fact that I am not American, or British. So English is not my first language; Finnish is. So there's a possibility that I have some trouble with the grammar, and if I misuse or misspell anything, please tell me so I won't make the same mistake again.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

* * *

><p>Chapter 4, No sensitivity<p>

"_Don't take too much  
>You'll get burned if it's all at one time<br>Take it easy, don't you get it?"_

* * *

><p>"Gibbs!" Tony shouted through the house. There were not a light turned on; but it was, after all, the middle of the summer and lights were the last things that were needed. But Tony felt uneasy, and turned on the light in the living room.<p>

He was frustrated. The one time when he needed to see Gibbs, he was nowhere to be found.

"Well, then," Tony said to himself, before shouting even louder, "**Abby!**" He hoped _very much_ she hadn't already run home to that geeky boy, Tim McGee. She was spending too much time with that guy, if you asked Tony, and he certainly wasn't happy about it. McGee was a bad influence, with his computers and his math interest and… Well, really, in anyone else's eyes, he was pretty much the perfect friend for Abby, who was very much too smart for her own good and Tim was on the same level of intelligence as her, so they could converse in their 'smart-people-talk' without confusing one another.

But Tony still didn't like Tim. "**Abb-eee!**"

"Yes, Tony? You better have a **HELL OF A** good reason to come in here and start shouting at **NINE O'CLOCK** in the **MORNING** while it's still **JULY**!" Her voice was threatening, and Tony had never been happier to see her on the top of the stairs. She stood there in her creepy white nightgown and her messy, messy, bedhead pigtails. She had obviously just woken up; to him yelling.

He was in a hurry, which was obvious to Abby – to anyone, really. But still she didn't feel much sympathy for him, because she was very, very tired, and she needed her beauty sleep. Or Vampire sleep. But when he hastily asked her, "Where's Gibbs?", she looked like she could seriously kill him.

"You wake me UP FOR THAT?" She yelled at him, "Remember Tony, I'm gonna be a FORENSIC scientist, which means that I'll be able to KILL YOU. Without leaving _one_ TRACE OF EVIDENCE. So, you better STAY on my GOOD SIDE, or you won't see your **EIGHTEENTH BIRTHDAY**." But then she noticed the bag he had over his shoulder that clearly wasn't his, and she was intrigued. "Whose bag is that?"

"Where is Gibbs, Abby?" He was annoyed with himself (He should have known better than bringing in Ziva's bag in the house), and really just needed to see Jethro.

"If you use that genius BRAIN of yours, which I now doubt actually exists, you'll figure it out! The **THREE B's, MAN**!"

Boat. Basement. Bourbon.

Of _course._

"AH-HAH! I knew you wouldn't let me think! Thanks Abs!"

He hurried down to the basement, where was the only place where he could believe that Gibbs would spend his time – except for NCIS, then – willingly. He almost fell when he flew down the stairs, but was able to grab the railing and so, kept going. And the whole time he was yelling Gibbs's name over and over, so he'd be completely prepared for Tony.

Tony had dropped Ziva's bag somewhere, but that wasn't a concern at the moment. "GIBBS."

"Either get to the point, or shut up, DiNozzo."

Jethro Gibbs. Probably not the most pleasant person to spend time with, but was in all honesty, quite okay. It took a while to get used to his silent ways, and to learn his unbreakable Rules, but there was no better man in the world. He was doing something to that boat of his, while wearing the obligatory NAVY-sweatshirt and matching pants. Tony didn't care much about that boat, but he had grown pretty used to having Gibbs around, so he had never commented on the 'working-outfit'.

"Ziva's here!" He choked out through his heavy breath.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows for a second – the only sign of being surprised he had ever let show – and asked, "Is she outside, or inside?"

Tony sighed, like Gibbs was an idiot and said, "Outside! I can't bring her in here before _you_ know, Gibbs."

The older man muttered something and pulled the sandpaper up and down rhythmically. "Well, what're you gonna do? She's still not talking to anyone else. You've got to change your tactic."

"_I_ don't _know_! She's an absolute _nutcase_!" Tony sighed, using the same description for her as he had done earlier. His hand went through his hair before he asked, "Why couldn't Abby do this?"

"Ziva's not used to women, I already told you this, Tony. Now go and do something with her."

"I wouldn't do this if you weren't payin' me!"

"I know. Now, _go_!"

* * *

><p>Tony went back up the stairs without giving Gibbs another stare, and hurried to find Ziva's bag. He had dropped it right beside the door to the basement, so it wasn't a long search. He went for the front door, but it was blocked by Abby. She had her hands on her hips, and straightened pigtails, so she was meaning business. She was fully dressed, and her makeup was in place. Tony knew better than arguing with her.<p>

"What is it, Abby? Are you mad 'cause I woke you up? Yeah, I'm sorry about that, but it was for an important cause, and you should be proud for being a silent part of it. Now, would you please step to the side so I can get out of here?"

Her eyes burned holes into his, and he gulped because that was a look he hadn't gotten very often since he moved in; the look meant that she was probably going to yell herself voiceless at him any second. He mentally braced himself and closed one eye.

But instead of yelling at him, she asked in a good leveled voice, "Whose bag is that?"

"Seriously Abs? You make me brace myself and then you only ask that?"

"Answer me!"

Tony looked down at the bag. Abby didn't know anything about his 'assignment', if you'd like, and he wasn't sure he wanted her to know anything either. She would probably insist to meet Ziva, which she absolutely couldn't because she would probably scare her off. So, he told her a little white lie, "Jeanne's."

Abby sighed a disappointed sigh, and asked him, "Are you still with her? Oh my God, Tony, you could do so. Much. Better!"

She had believed him

Oh lord. She had actually bought his lie. He felt unstoppable.

Or maybe not. Abby had now begun a topic that wouldn't allow him to leave anytime soon. He shook himself from the inside and cursed the lie he had told. He was never telling a lie, ever again. "Yes, Abby. I am still with Jeanne, and she'd not that bad when you get to know her, which I suggest you do, but I really need to go now, because I'm meeting…" Who was he meeting? Well, one more lie couldn't hurt, right? "… Kate. We're going to the beach. And Jeanne is coming later, but she has to work at the daycare until four, that's why I have her bag. With her swimming things. Y'know."

Wow. That was a big one. They lived near enough to the beach that Abby could come and check if he was telling the truth or not. He now feared for his wellbeing. _Oh God please let her stay inside__ the house all day_.

"Sounds like fun! Can I come?"

Of course. He should have seen _that_ one coming. "No! Step out of my way!"

For once, Abby did as she was told, and Tony knew she was planning to make sure he did as he had said. He damned himself while he stepped outside and expected to see Ziva at the picket fence. But she wasn't there. "Ziva?"

He hurried to the place where he'd left her, and she was nowhere to be seen. With his feet touching the same place as her had a moment before, he looked around furiously, yelling her name again because he was pretty sure he'd lost her. He walked a block or two all ways possible, to see if she was anywhere nearby, but when he didn't find her; yeah, he actually got worried. Of course, he hadn't thought of checking the park and her bench, but even if he'd had, he wouldn't have found her, because she wasn't there either. She was probably on the last place he'd check.

Sitting high up in a climbing-tree that was just beside the beach.

Thanks to her terrific Mossad training, she had been able to run fast enough to get there before Tony came outside again. And there hadn't been any problem for her to climb up to the top of the tree, and the biggest branch. She had done this too many times to count. So there she was, curled up on the big, steady branch, and she never wanted to get down.

* * *

><p>She never wanted to get used to having someone around. She couldn't get used to it, because in the end they always ended up disappointing her or, even worse, dying. And Tony really did mean that much to her, so she wouldn't get close to him. Even though it was a little late for that. But she didn't care; it's never too late to learn to stay away. Even if it'll be harder now than it would have been in the beginning.<p>

She stares at the sea, and the horizon that was so far away. She doesn't know how long she's been sitting there, but she roughly guessed about two hours. It felt right. She couldn't be sure, though. She didn't wear a watch anymore. Time didn't matter.

During those two hours, more than one person had noticed her there. One little girl had yelled to her mom, that there was _"someone up in the tree!" _And two boys, a little older than her, had asked if she needed help to get down. But she had ignored them, because she didn't talk. She might as well get used to it, since it seemed like she wouldn't be seeing Tony anymore.

Oh, how that hurt her inside.

But she still didn't care. Instead, she kept watching the horizon. It was somehow soothing, to watch it and know that it was absolutely and positively, out of her grip. That she would never be able to reach out and take it to her own. She had no idea why she felt like that. She just did.

After five o'clock, she started to turn off her feelings. She knew that Jenny would find her soon enough, so she might as well relax. She leaned her head against the tree trunk, and she closed her eyes. Her thoughts flew around in her head for a while, but it all stopped after a couple of minutes. She drifted into sleep in a matter of seconds after that, and soon she was at peace.

* * *

><p>"Ziva! What the HELL!"<p>

With eyes wide open, Ziva wasn't sure what had just happened. She wasn't staring at the horizon anymore; she the back of her head was leaning onto the grass _under_ the tree. She wanted to move, to sit up, but her limbs were numb and not a part of her wanted to cooperate.

"WHAT THE HELL." Was repeated by Tony.

Oh, Tony. Right. Of course he would be the one there. Wasn't she supposed to be staying away from him? Yes. Why was he at her side then? No idea. She squeezed her eyes shut.

She tried to open her mouth, to tell him that she was fine, even though she wasn't entirely sure what had happened and why she wasn't up in the tree anymore. It didn't work. Her cheek was so numb it couldn't move, and her mouth was dry. She rolled over, to lay on her stomach so she wouldn't have to look at Tony when she opened her eyes again, but when she couldn't… yeah. She panicked.

What _had_ happened?

_Had she fallen from the tree branch?_

She tried to roll over again, this time she was at least a little more successful. She got to her side, before she was almost whimpering in pain from her back. Tears formed in her eyes, but she was determined not to let them fall. This wasn't worth her tears. She rolled onto her back again, in great pain, and that was when she saw Tony for the first time since she… _woke up_?

"Why on EARTH would you be sleeping in a tree?" He asked her furiously. He put something under her head while he talked, a jacket or something alike, and he straightened her leg, that apparently had been quite bent.

She wasn't really _hurting_ or anything when she lay in that position… but still there was a pinching feeling in her back and left leg. "So you would not find me." She choked out.

"You climbed up in the highest tree you could find, and risked your life to sleep there, so you wouldn't be found by me?" Tony asked, making it all sound so, so stupid. "Yeah, that totally makes sense to me. _NOT! _Why would you ever do something that foolish? And why did you RUN AWAY from me in the first place? What did I do wrong?"

Ziva didn't want to answer that, so she closed her eyes. The ground wasn't being warmed by the sun anymore, so the cold grass was making goose bumps appear all over her bare arms. But she wasn't cold. Her mind didn't let her feel it, and she really wasn't against it.

"Ziva, can you sit up?"

Suddenly there was something in Tony's voice. There was a small hint of concern in it, a little bit of genuine worry, that made her open her eyes again, because she wasn't sure she had heard right. But she had, because his eyes had the same hint of concern, and he seemed really worried for her. So, she decided that she would say something to make him worry less.

"Just… let me be. The pain will pass in a moment."

"Are you in pain?" He asked her instantly, his eyes growing wide.

"No." She lied through her teeth. Well, of course he wouldn't believe that. He knew better than that, for sure. But still.

He kept looking down at her, and after only a few minutes, he put his arm under her knees, and the other one behind her shoulders, and he stood up with her. She winced in pain because his arm was just over the hurting spot on her back, but he didn't notice, and she wasn't going to tell him he was hurting her. Because then he would put her down again, and she didn't want that. Because she felt safe, being in his arms. And she knew that they were dangerously close, and that she was pretty much breaking her pact that she had with herself, but it felt nice. It felt so nice to be held by him.

"I'll take you to Jenny's, okay?"

She nodded her head against his chest. She wanted to fall asleep again, but the pain in her back came in waves, and when it was at its worse, she could barely keep quiet. But she did. The whole way home to Jenny's apartment, and to her bed, she had her eyes closed, and her face fixated on the same expression. She did go into some kind of sleeping state after a while, because she woke up in her bed the next morning, but she was a little fuzzy on the details.

Okay.

So there weren't many things she was sure of in her life. There weren't many things she depended on in her life. But there was one thing she was sure of, and one thing she depended on.

That she was falling in love with Tony.

And she didn't know how to stop it from happening.

* * *

><p>"What happened today, DiNozzo?"<p>

"She fell from a tree."

"Was she hurt? Did you make sure she _wasn't hurt?_"

"Of _course _I did, Gibbs! Even if I'm paid for looking after her, I do care if she's breathing or not!"

"Well, why did she fall from the tree, then?"

"The heck do I know. She said it was because she had been avoiding me."

"Figure out _why_, Tony."

"Yeah, yeah."

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><p><strong>Reviews are always appreciated.<strong>__

P.S. If you think the whole "Ziva-falling-from-a-tree-and-was-totally-not-hurt" thing is kind of too immortal; don't worry. I've got it all worked out.

_Cheers.**  
><strong>_


	5. Animal I have become

Sorry I took my sweet time to update, but school has been... well, literally killing me. I was in London too, so that took some of my precious time, but I'm updating now, so I hope you enjoy this chapter and I will... hopefully be back before Christmas!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

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><p>Chapter 5, Animal I have become<p>

_"I can't escape this hell_  
><em>So many times I've tried<em>  
><em>But I'm still caged inside <em>  
><em>Somebody get me through this nightmare<em>  
><em>I can't control myself"<em>

* * *

><p>"What really happened? DiNozzo told me she fell from a tree, but I though he was just screwing around as usual."<p>

"Well, she _did_ actually fall from the big tree beside the beach. You know; _that_ one."

"How could she fall from a _tree_? Of all places?"

"I don't know Gibbs… she hasn't said anything to me… She didn't even speak when I took her to the emergency room; the doctor had to read her _face expressions_! I don't know what I'm supposed to do!"

"But she's OK?"

"Yes. No broken bones or anything, it's a _miracle_. But she was advised to take some painkillers for the muscles she pulled in her back, and also to stay in bed. But she'll be on her way to the stupid park at dawn again tomorrow, I _know_."

"Nah, I wouldn't be so sure about that, Jen. Tony said she did seem a little pissed at him for some reason."

"Is he still okay with doing this?"

"I'm honestly not giving him a very much of a choice."

* * *

><p>The pain. It was there, lurking behind her back, just waiting until it could attack her and make her powerless. It was always there. <em>Always there<em>, but never moving. She knew it was there, _oh_, she _did_. There wasn't anything she had known as much as she knew that the pain was always just seconds away from her. But even if she was numb from it most of the time, there was still some tingling feeling inside of her that told her about how it could be worse. Just say something wrong, make a bad move in life and there it would be. Not in hiding anymore. Fully visible, it would make sure she heard it, saw it and _felt_ it, at all times. Then why didn't she do anything? Why didn't she run away or jump behind a tree?

Because she didn't mind the _pain of life_. She wanted it, craved it even. And in all honesty, she wanted to feel it_. _

_Life._

* * *

><p>Ziva's back was hurting. She had hurt it once before in Mossad, but that had definitely hurt less. Her head was thumping too. But that didn't bother her; it helped her to <em>not<em> think.

And her heart hurt. She had hurt that one before, and this was just as bad as all of her previous heartache pressed together.

She was laying on the bench today. Her feet were almost toughing the ground as she had her hurting backside against the before _oh-so-comfortable_ bench. She was every now and then letting out a deep sigh of pain and despair, but with her arm over her eyes she couldn't see who was seeing her in her most miserable state, and frankly, she didn't care much. Because Tony hadn't been there yet, and she was waiting for him to come. It was almost ten o'clock, and he was four hours late.

Maybe he had taken her words from the day before too seriously? Maybe he took it like she didn't want to see him anymore. That wasn't true. She just didn't want to have anything in her life that she wouldn't stand losing. She'd had her share of lost loved ones, and didn't want any more added to the overflowing list in her mind. Because she flickered through it sometimes, analyzing the names and what they had meant to her, and then she felt something else than nothing; she felt the way she had when she had first lost them. She knew that these names were proof of the fact that she was alone in the world. That there was no real reason to keep going.

Her back thumped and her leg felt like it was falling off any second, and she felt dead inside. This day (and any other day) couldn't get any worse. She was positive.

She was very, very, sure.

Gibbs threw off the covers from the peacefully sleeping Tony, and shouted loudly, "DiNozzo!"

The boy was faster than the speed of light alert and standing _on_ the bed. Being only in his underwear, he had given the older man a dirty look, before jumping down onto the floor and pulling on the closest t-shirt he got his hands on. He wasn't surprised to notice that it was the same shirt he'd worse the day before, and it smelled from sweat and… Ziva. He was a little unsure on how to react, but instead he played it cool and looked back at Gibbs, asking him furiously, "Why the brutal wake-up-call?"

"Aren't you supposed to be with Ziva right now?" Was the response, and Tony checked the time as a habit.

"Er… no. She's like mad at me or somethin', 'cause she was up in that tree because she didn't want me to find her. So I'm staying away. And I'm anyway going to hang with Drew today. And Jeanne. It's been a while since I saw my friends, y'know, _G__ibbs! _I have a life." He tried to walk towards the door to get some breakfast, but instead Gibbs pushed him down on the bed and stared at him.

"We had a deal, remember?"

"Yeah, but it's not gonna work. She's all closed up and stubborn, hasn't told me anything about herself. I can only keep going that long."

"We had a _deal_." Gibbs repeated calmly, but still with a level of anger and annoyance in his voice.

"Okay, okay." Tony decided not to argue. He would never win against Gibbs anyway, and maybe it wouldn't be so bad to hang with Ziva again.

Who was he kidding? Of course it would be bad. The girl had no sense of humor or opinion; which was something Tony valued in any person, really. Not just gals.

But still, he got dressed and ate breakfast in the slowest ways possible. He chose a shirt that had to be buttoned, so it would take longer. And surely, ever button seemed to be reopened and reopened. His shorts couldn't really be put on slowly, so he chose to have decisions anxiety and couldn't choose between the two pairs he had that weren't covered in something filthy, and usually, unknown. It was a hard choice, it honestly was, and it took five minutes before he took the pair he always wore. After he was fully dressed he went for breakfast.

Every bite of the cereal had to be nicely chewed into a fine paste before being swallowed; which by the way, had to be done in portions. The glass of orange juice he had was drunk in tiny, tiny gulps and when he was done, he took some time to wash his bowl and glass. And spoon. Then he changed his shirt. Because it was way too warm to wear something that was cotton and had to be buttoned.

After that, he changed again, because the t-shirt he had chosen smelled of something.

He usually ran to the park in the mornings, but today he made sure that every step was just as big as the last one; or rather, smaller. And in his head he was repeating – with outdrawn syllables – 'left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot'. Everything had to go slowly, because he didn't really need to, or want to, see her today. He started to work out a plan on how to get her to talk; but he couldn't force the words out of her. So there wasn't very much to work with.

And so, he reached the park, and eventually, the bench where Ziva was laying miserably. He was surprised to see her there at all, so he didn't say anything. He just stared at her in a probably quite creepy way, until she mumbled through her clenched teeth;

"Tony. I know you are there."

Surprised again. She had to stop surprising him.

Ziva raises her arm away from her eyes and looks at him. Her eyes were red and tired, and told him that she didn't feel well. He wondered if she had ever heard about the magic of pain medication; and then he silently wondered if she was in any great pain. But while he stood there and was subconsciously worried about Ziva, she had moved her feet from the bench so he could sit down beside her, inviting him to join her misery - and so he did. He couldn't help himself from noticing that her hair was tousled and curlier than it usually was, and as always; she didn't have an ounce of makeup caked onto her face.

Maybe he didn't like her, maybe he though spending time with her was a simple waste of valuable time, but one thing he had to admit, and that was the fact that Ziva was one of the few girls he knew who had real and natural beauty. He had caught himself staring at her every now and then, preferably her eyes; and he always wondered if they used to light up her face before. Now they were just dull and without that little piece of extra sparkle, but still beautiful. But beautiful in a troubled way that most often caused him to look away.

But before anything bad happened. Before everything she ever loved had been torn from her, how had she looked? Had her eyes always had that little glint of mischief and joy that had been there only a second the day before, when he had seen her smile? Had she always had that smile pasted on her sweet lips, as a reminder that everything was not just _bad_? That there was hope and nice things around, you might not only notice them most of the time.

Tony sat down beside her, and looked at her profile. Her dark, thick hair covered most her face, as usual, but she probably knew that he looked, because her long fingers pulled back her hair and fastened it behind her ear. He smiled on the inside. She really _was_ beautiful.

"So. Do you wanna see that movie today?" He asks her, and prays that she will say yes. Because he has run out of ideas.

"Sure." She replies. Such a small and nonchalant answer makes his heart stop. She replied as if they watched movies together all the time, and as if she hadn't told him the day before that she didn't want to see him anymore.

"Seriously?" He asks, a little bit as a joke, but a little bit to check that _she_ wasn't joking with _him_. She nods a little in response, and stands up to make the message clear. She was not kidding. She wanted to see a movie with him. "But," He starts, to begin to question her answer. But he changes his mind, because otherwise he'll probably lose her. "... awesome."

He laughs. He is making progress. Little, but at least something.

"Cinema or at my place?" He asked as they started to walk away from the bench. Personally, he wanted her to say the cinema, to which there wouldn't be hundreds of possibilities for the movie they were going to watch – he simply wouldn't be able to choose otherwise. His movie collection didn't exactly get _smaller_ -, but of course, the world wouldn't be on his side, and she replied that it would be nice to see the movie at his place.

Tony just didn't realize that she didn't want to be around lots of strangers in a movie theater. The second option was slightly less frightening to her. Home at Tony's there probably only would be his family, and how awful they could be?

"Of course." Tony muttered bitterly, but quickly takes it back and smiles at her - yet another moment of stupidly thinking and hoping that she'll smile back, but no -, and says. "I have one word for you, _Top Gun_."

"It is two words, Tony. And I have already seen it."

"Tease me not, m'lady. There's a reason for everything I say. Even when it sounds absolutely superstupid."

"Is that even a word?"

"Yes." He replied snottily, and pretends to be offended by her ridiculous remark.

"I understand." Responds Ziva, slightly playing along.

And then she turns her head towards the opposite direction so that the back of her head can be seen by Tony, and she smiles.

* * *

><p>"Goose!" Tony yells. He always did that, because Goose had always been his favorite for unknown reasons. And whenever the death scene came, he would yell and feel sad. It was a winning combination; if he ever watched it with a girl she would feel some need to give him a hug. So really, it was a tactic to get some love.<p>

It didn't work on Ziva, naturally.

"It is just a character, Tony." She says with a hint of mocking in her voice.

He gives her his evil eye for a second, but turn back to TV almost instantly. Another fifteen minutes of the movie pass, before he gathers his courage and speaks to Ziva without fearing for his life.

"So. Tell me 'bout your family."

He turns his head casually towards her, and waits for her not to answer. He knew she wasn't going to reply because she hadn't replied to him for weeks. Why would she now? Because she was in his house? Because she was somewhere personal for him? Because she felt safe? He didn't know, and he certainly didn't want to keep guessing, but when she actually looked at him, and answered, he was blown away.

"There really is not much to tell about them. My mother, sister and my brother are all dead."

Tony's eyes are wide with wonder. "All of them?"

"Yes. My mother was sick, she had been in the hospital for many months and we were all waiting for her to pass. But my siblings were murdered by one of my father's former associates. Father had wronged him somehow, and he surely paid for it."

"With two of his kids." Tony whispered slowly, genuinely surprised. He had known she had some major issues. He hadn't realized there were because of a loss; three, in fact. "Why only two? How're you still alive."

Her head snapped to the side and looked at him. Maybe he had been a tad insensitive. "Okay, sorry, that wasn't nice. You don't have to answer."

"No, it is okay… It was actually a coincidence. Ari and Tali were going to a movie together one evening…"

The movie seemed to slow down and everything around them moved in slow motion. Soon the only thing Tony could hear and register was Ziva's voice, while she explained to him. Tony could see how much she missed them while she talked; her eyes didn't seem to be in the same place as them, and when she spoke their names she said them in perfect Hebrew accent.

"… and they had asked me if I wanted to come along, but I declined. I had a mission to train for and I did not feel like going. Of course they went… and they were in a shooting outside of the cinema, right before the movie started.  
>They both had an instinct for protecting people; sadly that instinct did not apply to themselves also. Ari was shot in the chest and Tali in the back and leg when she tried to stop his bleeding. He was dead, thought. He died instantly. Tali did not; she died from blood loss and was alive and suffering for several minutes, before she died."<p>

The truth. So raw, ripped open right in front of them. She hadn't removed any details or even eased the pain of the story, she had told him everything there was to know about it and he had no idea how to respond. There wasn't a second of pain in her body language; she didn't even flinch while telling him. What did this mean, now? Was she opening up to him because she trusted him, or because she couldn't carry the burden all by herself through life? Or maybe both.

Did this mean she wanted his help?

His help and support for the heavy load she carried with her?

He could do that.

Though he didn't know, that he already was.


	6. A drop in the ocean

Hello readers. I am here, with a new chapter. Just in time of my Birthday, which has been for about… yeah, 11 minutes. Thank you, thank you. I am now 14. Still in my early teens, sadly, but slowly growing up.

So, I really hope you all had a very good Christmas, and I wish you all a HAPPY NEW YEAR! (A bit too late, but it's still on the first week of the year!)

Hope you'll enjoy the chapter; I didn't work too hard on it. I finished three thirds of it during the last hour and a half. Therefore I apologize for any wrong-spelling.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

* * *

><p>Chapter 6, "A drop in the ocean"<p>

"… _I'm holding you closer than most,"_

"No, no, no, no, that's not how you do it! Where are you from, _Mars_?" Tony exclaims after a long couple of seconds of groaning – not for the first time -, and runs over to Ziva again. She's laughing loudly, almost bending over, and when he reaches her, she puts her hand on his shoulder to steady herself. "Bad dog! Bad dog! You should NOT throw Frisbees at Tony's head, and you're definitely not supposed to actually HIT IT!"

Ziva laughs some more. Tony never would have guessed it was that easy to get her to laugh, when she had finally opened up to him. After she had told him everything about her horrible family, she had somewhat felt safer around him, and already a few hours later, she had giggled at one of his crude jokes. Of course, this had encouraged him, and soon, her laughter seemed unstoppable. It seemed like she was letting out a year lost with laughs, and she had never been as happy as she was when she was spending time with Tony. And this was pretty much from the break of dawn until the clock stroke midnight and Jenny ordered her home and into bed. Sure, it caused a somewhat worsened sleeping schedule, but somehow they made it work.

And Tony… looked forward to meeting her in the mornings.

"Sorry, sorry." She says after she's caught her breath again. She lets go of his shoulder, and she smiles at him. And Tony is mesmerized by it.

He's still not used to her being… happy. Carefree even.

"Okay, I forgive you. But, we will never use this one," he holds up the deep blue Frisbee two inches from her face, "ever, ever again. It's dangerous in your hands. I wouldn't doubt for a second you were in Mossad. You're a _killer._"

"Oh, well, thank you." She says cheerfully, and grabs the blueness from the loose hold he has on it. She's just about to throw it far away for him to fetch – like a dog -, but she changes her mind, and instead she presses it against herself, and looks at him, serious for probably the first time in three days. "Would you like to do something else?"

Tony chuckles, "Heh, Ziva, don't scare me like that! With that face I thought you were gonna tell me you'd cut off my balls if you got the chance. God. My heart is thumping." He puts his hand on his chest to strengthen the joke.

"Your heart is on the left side, Tony."

He sighs, and puts on his dramatic face, and says in a disappointed voice, "Well, you just ruined a perfectly good joke. Thanks. Thanks for that. I'm gonna go to cry now. I'm that sad about this, you hurt me that much-"

"You are not being funny, because I am serious. Would you like to do something else?"

"I don't even know what kind of 'else' you're talkin' about! See another movie? 'Cause, we've seen like, seven movies the past days, and it's summer and the weather is warm and nice, and usually I wouldn't mind watching lotsa movies, but I like to cherish this beautifulness while we still have it…"

"No. Not a movie." Ziva tells him slowly. "Something special."

"Something special… like eat a ice cream, or something? You gotta give me something, 'cause I have no idea what you're talking about." He feels a little frustrated with her because she has never asked him for something like this before.

"Well, no. Something…" She hesitates, wondering if she should really tell him what's on her mind. She doesn't… it's still too early for them. "You know, forget about that! This is fun too." _As long as I may spend time with you, I can do anything…_

Tony looks at her weird, he knows she's lying to him – well, maybe not lying, but definitely denying something –, and he's not cool with that. He wonders if he should ask her again, but instead he just asks if she wants lunch, because he really wants a pepperoni pizza with extra cheese. She replies with a small smile, that she's eating with Jenny today. Because it's about time they really get to know each other. And that she should probably leave soon.

"So, you're talking to her now?"

"Well, yes. She is actually very nice. I am sad I have not noticed that before."

"Well, that's nice. I guess I'll see you tonight then?" He asks her, his voice full of hope. It's dangerous to get used to have someone around. "Because well… I know a movie that just has to be watched!"

"Sure." Ziva doesn't look at him when she answers, but her voice sounds very normal, so he's not worried that he would have wronged her. "I will come over at six."

His eyebrows move closer together, and he asks skeptically, "You need five hours to eat lunch? That sounds like a lot of time, even to me."

She gave him her 'do not question me'-look, (which he had seen a lot of lately) and she hands him his Frisbee back. "Bye, Tony. I will see you later." She smiles at him, and turns around to walk off.

"Oh, c'mon! Don't I get a hug goodbye, at least?" He shouts after her mockingly, daring her to turn around and come back. But she just turns her head a little to look at him for a second, and yells back something about a hug hello, and then she starts to run the opposite way. The way away from him. The _wrong _way.

Subconsciously, Tony wishes she would've stayed with him.

* * *

><p>"Oh good lord, that's good pizza." Tony munches on his favorite pizza, outside of his favorite place for lunch. Kate is sitting on his opposite, and she's chewing in a very lady like way on her vegan pizza, which she actually hates, but she's been trying to lose weight lately. Though Tony knows that she isn't really even trying. They're talking about nothing special, and Tony is enjoying the fact that she doesn't know about Ziva.<p>

Kate may be his best friend, but really, she doesn't need to know everything. Just because they've told each other everything for the past ten years, it doesn't mean she needs to know what a complete jerk he is to Ziva.

But of course, she _knows everything._

"So… let's chat about that..." she pauses to get a disgusted effect, "lady friend, of yours."

"How do you know about Z-" He almost yelled through the not-yet-chewed pizza in his mouth. But then he frowns, and says in an ashamed voice, "… you're talking about Jeanne."

Kate's eyes are surprised, but she is very ready to interrogate. "Yes, who else would I possibly talk about? Is there anyone else? Oh, God, please say yes. Please dump that bitch…"

"Don't talk about Jeanne like that!" He says angrily. But he knows why Kate gets like that every time Jeanne's the topic. She simply hates her.

"Why? She's a bimbo! You deserve much better than her, c'mon!" Kate fights back, but then reaches out and grabs the biggest piece there was left of his pizza. "Give me a slice. Also, who did you think I was walking about first?"

"What? Jeanne, of _course_."

"No. Definitely not her, because I'm fairly certain her name starts on a 'J', not a 'Z', or an 'S', I'm not sure what you said, but DEFINITELY not a 'J'. _What_ are you hiding?"

"Nothing! Nothing!"

Kate stared at him angrily. "Don't make it worse than it already is, DiNozzo! Tell me, or I WILL eat your pizza and steal ten movies from your collection! Oh, I'm already picking them out in my head; I believe you've seen those James Bond movies too many times-"

Tony didn't even hesitate before he screamed out, "Ziva! ZIVA. That's her name!"

Oh no. What had he done? Now, Kate would demand to know everything about her, to meet her and to get to have a talk with her. Oh no… he was screwed, he was dead. But instead of being questioned by his best friend, she yelled out in victory;

"Yes! Finally! Oh God, it'll be fun to rub this in Jeanne's face…"

"Jeanne can't know about this. You know how melodramatic she is, she'll instantly assume the worst and dump my ass before I can say 'pickle'." Tony replies, somewhat miserably.

"Okay, I won't tell Jeanne anything, if you answer this one thing for me," Kate paused to make him sweat, but continued soon again, "do you like this girl?"

"Who? Jeanne? Ziva?" He acted confused, but knowing Kate and her ways, he knew exactly who she was referring to.

"Ziva."

"I… " he started. Because he wasn't sure what he felt about her. Surely, his feelings had changed from when they first met. Now he… well, maybe didn't _like_ her, even less _love_, but he certainly cared for her. Out of the blue a feeling of protectiveness had overtaken him, and the thought of her hurting herself again like when she fell from the three made his inside quiver and his guts roll up together. "She's nice."

His subconscious knew she was more than nice, and that he didn't just _care_ for her. He loved the way she didn't speak in contractions, and he loved her smile, and her laugh he'd just discovered. He loved her thick hair and her sparkling eyes. He loved the way she would silently tease him, and he loved how much she affected him.

**NO. NO. NO.** Tony DiNozzo didn't _love _anybody. He didn't become all _corny_ and _cheesy_ about hair and eyes. He simply… appreciated all those things on Ziva.

_Oh_, sweet denial.

"That's it?" Kate's eyebrows were as high as she could get them, and her eyes were expressing a very big amount of… genuine confusion. "You'd think there'd be something more between you guys when you insist on keeping it from Jeanne and everything…"

"I'm not telling her, because I know how she'll react." Tony defended himself.

"Why not just tell her the truth? It's always the best."

Tony looked down at the last piece of pizza in the carton. She was right. Kate was always right. Stupid.

"Jeanne? The truth? Oh Gosh. Sorry. I didn't know you hated me that much. Well, I'm sorry, but I won't go on _that_ **SUICIDE MISSION**. You do realize that she would strangle me if I ever actually told her the truth."

"Come on, Tony. At least if you tell her she can't hold it against you. Though she probably can anyway, since I believe you've been keeping this from us ladies in your life, for quite a while." She sipped her soda and gave him a look.

Of course; she was right.

* * *

><p>"Tony!"<p>

He wasn't looking forward to this, but he still walked loyally up to Jeanne and gave her a quick peck on the mouth. It felt terribly wrong. Not only because they were in the park where he and Ziva had spent all those days… not talking. Or him talking and her graciously avoiding him.

"Hello, you."

"I've missed you! It's been like two weeks since I saw you last!" She smiled the most worriless smile you ever saw, and put her arms around his neck. Tony had to close his eyes for a second, because he had imagined that it was Ziva there instead. _Silly boy, get back to your senses._

"Yeah, it certainly had been a while. A long while, without you and your… and _you_."

"You're so sweet." She smiled. She tried to kiss him, but he looked away at just the right second, and it all just felt so very weird. Of course, this little move made Jeanne notice the wrongness of it all, and she asked him with her most perfect – and trained for – puppy-dog-eyes; "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." _Well, it's just that I've practically been cheating on you in my mind__ and I think I'm subconsciously falling in love with this exotic beauty__, but please don't freak out, I promise you I'm not worth it._"There's just something I need to talk to you about, and maybe explain."

Wow. Awkward.

"Oh, okay. Should we sit down?"

"That may be for the best." He replied; his head sulking with shame. He led her to a bench in the park, far away from Ziva's. They silently sat down, and Tony just thought it all felt like a really bad chick-flick. There's a reason he doesn't like those movies.

"So, Jeanne." He breathed. "Hi. How are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you. You sound nervous, are we breaking up?" She asked, but didn't look as sad as she probably ought to look.

"No! No! Of course not. There's just this little detail in my current situation you don't know about."

"Just tell me."

Here goes nothing. "Gibbs kind of put me on this… case, thing-y." He stopped, to look up at Jeanne, but she just nodded her head a little to make him go on. "And well, I've kind of been… well not seeing," _only spending every day from dawn to dark with her,_ "but spending quite a lot of time with this girl; Ziva. She usually sits on that bench over there," he points, "and she's really quiet. Anyway, the lady who's taking care of her was worried for her when she first came to America, because she wasn't speaking and what not, so Gibbs promised to pay me if I got her to socialize and smile and mainly, talk. Talk about her family and stuff…"

Jeanne didn't speak.

"Say something, would you?"

"I'm… not surprised that you've been spending all of this time with a _girl_." She said, and Tony wasn't sure what her tone of voice represented. "Couldn't you even call me? Did you never have a _day off_?"

"Technically no. And I didn't call you because I was with her literally all day. And it probably wouldn't be too appreciated by your family if I were to call you at 12:30 a.m." He tried to joke. It was useless, though; Jeanne was filled with prejudice.

"I've seen her in the park. She's really pretty."

What was he supposed to reply to that? "I guess."

"I'll see you later, Tony." Was all Jeanne said after that. She stood up and hurried away. Okay, so Tony had obviously upset her. But then again, maybe she was overreacting? Or was she? Was this really that serious?

Oh. Seriously. Tony did NOT understand the female species.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Next chapter will include Jeanne trying to hit Ziva and Tony being mesmerized. **

**Reviews are always appreciated.**

**-Kajsa**


	7. Nature Boy

Chapter 7, "Nature boy"

_"The greatest thing you'll ever learn, is just to love,  
>And be loved in return."<em>

"So, what are you and Tony gonna do later?" Jenny asked, as she sipped on her coffee. She and Ziva were sitting outside Jenny's favorite restaurant, having dessert. They had talked very much, and Ziva has even told a few jokes. They'd had quite a nice afternoon together, and they were both positively pleased with the other one's company.

"I read something about a party at the beach tonight on a poster in town; I thought we could go there. Tony has mentioned more than once that he likes to be around more people than only one, so I felt we should do something for him." She smiled and put a piece of cheesecake on her fork. She put it in her mouth and chewed; it was insanely delicious.

"That sounds nice." Jenny smiled back, but really all she could think about was the fact that all of Tony friends would be there. And she had heard him several times protest about Ziva meeting his friends; he didn't want any one of them to know he was ditching all of them for just sitting on a bench with a girl who wasn't even his girlfriend. But Jenny hadn't said anything then, and she surely wouldn't say anything now. So she brought out her knowledge about girl-talk, and asked with a slightly excited voice, "What are you going to wear?"

Ziva smiled. She hadn't talked about things like these in a very long time. "Oh, just this dress I bought today. When you went to the post office. I did not bring much variation of clothes when I came."

Jenny nodded, and drank another big sip of her steaming hot coffee, making her throat burn up in protest; just so she wouldn't say anything she'd regret.

A while passed. They talked about anything but Tony and the upcoming night, and soon they both were ready to leave. Jenny went inside the restaurant to pay the bill, and when she came back out Ziva grabbed her shopping bag and they started to walk to the apartment. It wasn't a long walk and with it being summer, it was quite nice to walk. Everything around them was pretty and for the moment they walked everything felt just perfect.

But halfway home, Jenny got a call from Gibbs, saying they had a murdered Petty Officer. She stopped walking and she listened carefully to what he said, and made sure she didn't interrupt him with questions while he was talking; because he had already linked the severed ear to another ongoing case, and she suddenly got very eager to get to the NCIS headquarters. She ended the call, and looked at Ziva with apologetic eyes; "Will you get very mad if I leave?"

"Of course not, I need to get ready for tonight anyway. Go solve the murders." Ziva said without a doubt in her mind. Jenny looked more than relieved and gave Ziva a big hug.

Ziva walked alone the rest of the short way home, because the Headquarters were the other way, and Jenny had begun to run to get there faster. Ziva had never minded being alone, but now it felt different and strange. But she shook off the feeling as she entered the apartment building and took the stairs to the right floor. Her footsteps echoed in the empty place, and she counted the taps.

It was now almost three forty-five, and for the first time in a very long while she was going to spend time making herself ready for something. The thought was quite amusing to her, and she had to giggle a little about it when she unlocked the door to the apartment. She put on some music to set the mood, and then she headed for the shower.

* * *

><p>"It's really a buzzkill that you ain't coming, DiNozzo."<p>

"I'm sorry, Doug. But you'll just have to live with it."

Tony was having a rather… brain cell-murdering conversation with one of his – seemingly – brain-dead friends, Doug. He had just confirmed that he wouldn't be present at the beach party tonight, because he simply had other things to do. Of course, his grunting friend asked if he was spending some sexy quality time with that babe Jeanne; Tony had cringed a little, and almost felt like screaming from the top of his lungs that he didn't want to see Jeanne naked anymore. _Been there, done that._ But in front of Doug, he'd just replied that it really was none of his business, but he still played along and winked a little. He felt a little disgusted with himself.

"Yeah, yeah. What've you been up to anyway? Nobody's seen you in weeks." Doug stated the obvious.

"I've been doing a little bit of this and a little bit of that…" while trying to avoid this conversation at all cost, Tony was really just trying to be as short in the words as he possibly could. And since his friend wasn't the brightest of people, he didn't question anything and just shrugged his shoulder a little.

Right at that moment, Tony started to question the people he usually hanged around with.

Ziva had just gotten dressed in a pair of casual shorts and a t-shirt, with her wet hair in a right bun on the top of her head. She was dressing like this, because Jenny had sent her a text message, asking her to go buy some groceries. Not a lot, but some milk and salad, basic things like that. So, before she would start getting ready for the party she'd get away the little chore she had and put on her flip-flops, grabbed the key to the apartment and some of the money from Jenny's 'grocery jar'.

Thankfully it wasn't a long walk to the store, but the time was showing that it was still only four fifteen, so Ziva had more than a lot of time to get ready when she got home again - but she felt a little uneasy anyway and but some speed onto her steps. It was a really warm day, and almost everyone who was outside (not that a lot of people wanted to face the heat, most of them just stayed inside) wore shorts, or a skirt. Or something that wasn't too warm. But Ziva was surprised to see a man walking hurriedly in a suit, and by the looks of it; it was hot.

She didn't envy him

When she arrived into the grocery store, she took a basked to gather the food in, and she started to look for the things Jenny had asked for. She instantly found some cucumber, and she took a couple of tomatoes at the same time. She also found the milk quite fast, and after she had taken the three liters of milk she also checked the best before dates on the yogurt cans in the front, and she took a few of those too. She made her way to the cashier to pay, and when that was finished and done, she packed the things in a plastic bag she had grabbed, and she started to walk home to the apartment. But when she had just taken a step outside into the heat, a teenage girl came up to her, and asked with a harsh voice;

"You're Ziva, right?"

"Yes, that would be me. Who are you then?"

"I'm Jeanne, and, uhm… I hate you."

Ziva wondered who this silly person was, and she was just about to open her mouth to put her wondering into words, but her Mossad defense reflexes kicked in before she could; because she had to stop Jeanne's hand mid-air when she tried to slap her. Ziva was really surprised and blinked several times. Jeanne cringed in pain when Ziva squeezed her wrist with all the strength she had, and then she turned it upwards a little, and forced the other girl down on her knees, in an attempt to ease the pain for herself. It only got worse, of course. Jeanne's eyes soaked in tears that were brought out by the pain that shot through her like lightning through a tree, every time Ziva made the slightest movement. She had never felt pain like this.

She cried out in pain, but Ziva didn't let go even when Jeanne pretty much begged for her to release the grip. But Ziva didn't like it very much when other people tried to hit her, and she didn't punish them lightly; but when she looked up again she saw an older man walking their way – probably to break it up between them – and Ziva removed her hand from Jeanne's wrist, and turned around to walk the other way – ignoring the man when he shouted after her to come back -, leaving Jeanne there on her knees, confused and rubbing her wrist.

Well, she certainly regretted trying to even touch Ziva, now – when it was too late.

But Jeanne wasn't done with Ziva now; far from actually. She let the man help her up and she answered nicely when he asked how she was, and if he could report it. Of course, she wanted Ziva to go away, but getting the police into the situation might be a little too extreme, so when the older man had walked away, she fished he phone out of her pocket and pressed number one, and she pressed it to her ear and waited until Tony answered on the other line, before she put on her saddest voice, and whimpered; "You can't believe what just happened."

Ziva ran home.

She ran very fast, and when she entered the apartment she didn't even realize that she had lef tit unlocked when she left earlier, she just felt saddened with herself, because she just a moment ago had caused extreme pain to somebody she didn't even know. Granted, it wasn't even close to being the first time it happened, since it was something she had done on a daily basis back home in the Mossad, but now when she was in America she wanted to be a better person; not a ruthless killer who never gave mercy to anybody.

She put the grocery bag violently on the dinner table to unload it, but when she did that two of the yogurt cans broke and the yogurt made a mess in the bag. She got angrier because of that and just left it all on the table; she didn't care if the milk went bad and sour or the salad became soggy, she was mad.

She went into her room and sat down on the bed in silence. It was warm there, because the sunlight was streaming through the window and right onto her back, heating it up even more. She looked around in the room, and she couldn't help but notice her black notebook in the tiny bookshelf, with the other ones. She hadn't written in it for a while, so she stood up and grabbed it together with her old ballpoint pen, and sat down again. She opened it, and rested her hand and pen on top of a fresh, new page.

And she started to write the word, "why".

* * *

><p>Jeanne had called him earlier. She had sounded upset – he had heard almost the tears behind her eyes -, and Tony usually knew when she was bluffing and when she wasn't, but this time he couldn't tell for sure which option was the right one. He wondered if she could really lie about something that serious, because Ziva would never just attack anybody out of the blue. But she had been in the Mossad, and he couldn't help but confess that he didn't really know her that well yet.<p>

But still, Tony sat on the bench, once again. But this time, he was alone. It was almost six o'clock and he was looking around for Ziva. First he looked right, then left, then back, and then he repeated it all. He was starting to worry when the time ticked towards five minutes past six; because she was never late, and he almost considered getting up and walking home to her apartment to get her. Thankfully, she soon appeared in his sight, and he smiled and stood up from the bench. She wasn't walking very fast, so it took a while for him to see how she looked, but when he did he swore he'd never tear his eyes away from her ever again.

She was wearing a deep blue sundress with thin straps. The bottom seam was made of lace, and there was a little bow right before the skirt started - which ended right above her knees. Her hair was down in long curls, and she had even put on a little makeup. Her feet were dressed up with a pair of brown sandals. He was impressed, and even a little mesmerized by her.

And to be _completely_ honest; not just a little.

"You're late! I was almost worried. You shouldn't scare me like that." He chuckled nervously, and embraced her into the very much waited for, hug hello.

"I am so very sorry." She played along and squeezed him a little in the hug, before she released him. "So, shall we go?"

"You look great, by the way, and yes," he smiled. "I believe we should get going. But I can't help but ask you… where exactly are we going?"

She laughed at him, and the smile that stayed on her lips after that was mocking him. It screamed at him, "wouldn't you like to know?" And yes, he really did want to know. But she wouldn't take him anywhere strange right? She wouldn't take him for a late night hunting trip and chase homeless cats, would she?

Of course not.

"Do not look so frightened! I will not hurt you." She assured him, and grabbed his hand to drag him with her towards the beach. "I believe you will enjoy it, where I am taking you."

"There's no blood involved, is there? 'Cause I don't like that stuff. Neither do I like to kill innocent animals or hurt other people."

"And you want to become a federal agent?" She laughed, and they started to walk.

"Last time I checked it wasn't in their job description to kill things." He got a little queasy at the thought of a bloody little animal at his feet, and he waved off the thought faster than it had come into his mind. But it wasn't easy to keep it away.

"Oh well."

She didn't let go of his hand while they walked, and tony couldn't help but look around for Jeanne during the time Ziva wasn't looking back at him. And when he started top realize where she was pulling him, he just wanted to turn around and run away.

"H-hey Ziva. Are we goin' to that party?" he asked nervously.

"Well, you are always complaining about me not being social enough, so I thought I could spend a night together with you and your friends at the beach!"

So her intention had been considerate. And nice. And he could possibly love her a little more because of that but—

Wait.

Love her? He didn't love her. Oh please, he could barely stand being around her for longer than a few hours at the time! And she had probably attacked his girlfriend earlier that day, so she really wasn't anything to love. And she would never feel the same for him anyway, because if it were so, that he loved her, then his feeling would have developed… very quickly, and she couldn't possibly have developed similar feelings during this time... Of course this wasn't the case at all, but still.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Ziva." He protested, and stopped walking. She turned around and looked at him, and with a questioning look on her face, she asked him why. Since he didn't know how to reply to this, he just said, "Because… I just wanna be alone with you. I don't want my weird guy friends gawking all over you like you're piece of meat for them to sink their teeth into whenever you're alone…"

She smiled an uncertain smile at him, and said, "I was in the Mossad, Tony. I believe I can handle a few teenage boys. Come on now." She turned around again and walked the other way again. They were very close to the party now, so it didn't take long for her to reach their goal.

But apparently it hadn't taken Jeanne too long to spot him either while they had been talking, and she ran up to him very fast and threw her arms around him like he'd just raised from the dead; or something just as amazing. "You're here!"

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"But why are you here with…" she loosened her grip around his neck to look him in the eyes, and she lowered her voice a little, "her?"

"I didn't want to come with her, okay. But I had to." Lies. So many lies, these days. Now all he wished for was that Ziva was far, far away and wouldn't see Jeanne pressed up against him, because that would be the one thing that would make everything ever worse. But sure enough, the Gods didn't approve of him lying to so many people at the same time, so when he looked around for Ziva when Jeanne squeezed his neck again, he noticed Ziva walking up to them with two cups of something in her hands. And when she was just beside them, Jeanne turned around with perfect timing, grabbed one of the cups out of Ziva's hand and said,

"Hello, again."

Ziva was more than confused, and looked at Tony, and asked; "Who is this?"

"Um… this would be…" just spit it out. "My girlfriend, Jeanne."

That wasn't exactly what Ziva had wanted to hear, even though she had subconsciously expected it. But still she felt like she could say with a lot of disbelief in her voice, but still make him feel bad,

"Your what?"

**The next chapter - will involve harsh words and a kiss.**


	8. Little Wonders

**Chapter 8, Little Wonders**

"_I don't mind  
>If it's me you need to turn to<br>We'll get by,  
>It's the heart that really matters in the end"<em>

"Jeanne. My girlfriend." Tony repeated his words, discreetly and nervously looking for a place where he could run and hide. Ziva might look small and weak, but he knew better; her killing instinct was vicious; he wouldn't stand a chance against her - and he had wronged her. He sneaked a peek at her; she was staring into the red cup she held in one hand, her other arm was limply hung at her side. She looked up for a brief second, before she looked down again at the beverage - her eyes were confused; her whole expression was actually quite disconcerted. She had been caught off guard.

"I did not know you had a girlfriend." She replied after a few seconds of unbearable silence. Jeanne was still standing at his side, and her whole body language said that she was unbelievably pleased with the whole situation. She smiled a smug smile, and said;

"Well, I see you two have some things to talk about, so I guess I'll just… go. See you later, Tony."

Her steps back to the beach were just as smug as her smile had been. Actually, her whole posture had been drenched in a bath of self-satisfaction, and her behind swayed to the music that blasted from the enormous, rented speakers. Tony almost ran up to her right then, and told her they were _over_. But he didn't – and probably wouldn't dare -, because he had to explain some things to Ziva.

Explain what, exactly? It wasn't like he had even thought about breaking up with Jeanne before he met Ziva. It wasn't like he had felt bad about keeping from her that he had a girlfriend; and it definitely wasn't like he… loved Ziva, or anything. That would just be… weird. And totally unlikely. Seriously.

He looked at the absolutely stunning girl in front of him, and he felt bad. She didn't look sad, not disappointed even, just confused and a bit trapped. So, he told her the exact truth;

"I don't know what to say."

She sighed a little, before she smiled the smile that was convincing to the naked eye – but he knew she was just lying to him with her facial expression. He tried to answer with a smile himself, but it was a pathetic excuse for a smile that mostly just looked like an unsure method of persuasion.

"Neither do I."

Her words were like a knife slicing through Tony's abdomen; and when she turned around, to leave him and walk towards the beach, he felt like the knife was left in and then twisted around a couple of turns. He went after her; first walking kind of slowly but then speeding to catch up with her.

"I'm sorry?" He said when he was a couple of steps behind her. He was almost yelling; partly because the music was so loud he was afraid she wouldn't hear him; partly because the yelling was a kind of scream of desperation. Maybe she would feel sorry for him.

"Why are you apologizing, Tony? You did not do anything wrong."

That's a matter of opinion. "You just seem so… mad."

"Well, I assure you, I am not." She didn't look at him or even slow down. She just sped up and almost-ran into the crowd of young people, all of them holding red and blue cups filled with beer or coke mixed with vodka. Or in some rare cases, grape juice.

Ziva felt that she needed a minute by herself, to think through what she had just learned. She wasn't completely sure why she was upset with the fact that Tony had a girlfriend; she didn't like him in that way. Right? No, God no. Then why did she feel so bitter?

She tried to walk towards the shore, but with all the people surrounding her, pushing her around; she couldn't walk straightly forward. It was frustrating – the thick crowd didn't exactly help the feeling of being trapped. The music, the screaming, the laughing and the sound of the small waves crashing against the beach was overwhelming to her, and her mind was clouded for a few seconds, and suddenly Jeanne was standing in front of her. She looked around to see from where she had ended up, but couldn't draw any conclusions so she just looked up at the face of Tony's _girlfriend_.

"You know what? I think you're pathetic." Jeanne laughs. "Like seriously, did you really think you could get somebody like _Tony_?"

Ziva opened her mouth to politely tell her that she was going to leave now, but before she got the chance, Jeanne spoke again. "I mean, he's hot, funny and _rea__-_lly popular. And you're… well… kind of a nobody." She smiled a condescending smile.

Ziva definitely didn't feel threatened by the girl's words; she wasn't exactly dangerous or anything. But still there was some kind of truth in her words.

"He deserves better than a _nobody_." She painfully emphasized the 'nobody'.

Ziva raises her eyebrow; showing Jeanne how little she values her opinion. But she couldn't help her snappy comeback; "Well, then I cannot help but wonder what he is doing with you."

But she didn't yell loudly enough (well, it would have been hard, eighty percent of the kids there were singing along in the chorus to We Are Young, holding their cups high over their heads, not caring when the drinks spilled over the edges) so Jeanne couldn't hear her. Maybe that was for the best, Ziva thought, as the other girl's lips moved, but she couldn't either talk sufficiently loud. Ziva tried to read Jeanne's lips to get some kind of idea of what she as saying, but before she could make sense of the words, a hand with thick fingers roughly closed themselves around her upper arm.

Goose bumps spread over her whole left side.

She was somewhat gently pulled out from the crowd; soon she and the unidentified person – a guy, Ziva determined – were outside the big gathering of people. This new boy had been blessed with black curls and big, hazel eyes. His thick lips grinned at her without stopping, and Ziva could tell by the slight sway in his posture that he was intoxicated. He was shirtless, and she felt herself blushing a little while looking at the dark skin over his surprisingly muscular chest.

"Hello Ze-vah, I am Do-ug." He slurred and let go of her arm.

Ziva was very unsure of how to reply to this. She could recall that Tony had mentioned Doug once or twice; she had thought it seemed like they were good friends. She smiled back at him for a second; he was awfully handsome.

"I've heard _a-lot_ about y-o_u_. You're really hot-t-t." Ziva couldn't help but find his drunken words amusing, but unlike most girls her age, she didn't really find him threatening.

"Why, thank you." She giggled uncharacteristically. "But I cannot help but wonder why you have dragged me all the way over here."

"'Can_not_'." He repeated. "That's funny… "

She raised her eyebrow.

"W_eee_ll, I did a bet with my buddies that I could getcha to kiss me. How does that sound, huh? Huh? Got a smooch in there for me?" He poked her upper lip awkwardly and she frowned and stepped back. "Yeah, Tony doesn't own you…"

Ziva was pretty unsure of what Tony had to do with this, but she didn't really care. Neither did she care – or really think - when she closed the distance between herself and the drunk stranger and pressed her lips against his harshly. She ran her tongue between his lips quickly, then she pulled away; and she was just as surprised as he was over what had just taken place.

"You are welcome." She said, and patted his cheek before she turned around and walked home.

* * *

><p>Tony looked around for Ziva everywhere, but he couldn't find her dark curls anywhere. He knew that yelling her name in desperation would be useless; the music was too loud, even for her ninja-hearing, which was incredibly impressive in almost all other cases. He pushed himself past the drunk minors who were virtually all around him, screaming and laughing and singing and crying and pleading. It had been a pretty long while since he had been to a party quite as crazy as this one, but for once he wasn't in the middle of the drama.<p>

He saw a second of a girl's breasts when one of her drunken guy friends played a prank on her and pulled the string to her bikini-top. Her cry of surprise was laughable for Tony, and he looked away and continued to search for the beautiful girl he had come to the beach with.

A small hand took hold of his bigger one, and he felt the long fingernails of his girlfriend pressed into his palm. He felt some pain over the jagged nails in his hand, but he had no time to care about it. He turned around unusually quickly and shouted in her face, "Have you seen Ziva!?"

She shook her head, but she pointed to a patch of grass just off the beach where no one was standing where they would be alone, without leaving the party. Then it suddenly became his turn to shake his head and refuse her invitation.

But then he realized that this probably would be a perfect moment to end their relationship ... well, maybe not perfect, but a moment to end their relationship without having to wait very long.

So he shook his head again and smiled to show her that he changed his mind.

Jeanne smiled happily at him, and he felt somewhat bad about what he would do, but that feeling flew away very quickly when she pressed her painfully long nails into his palm and wrist again. He swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut for a second. She pulled him mercilessly through the bunch of people around them, and sooner than he ever would have thought, they were at the vacant and peaceful grassy site. She turned around to him,

"So Tony, I was wondering -"

"Jeanne, I'll be frank, I think we should break up."

"Excuse me, what?" It was obvious that she didn't believe her ears.

"What I just said. I think we should break up."

"W-why?" He could see her confidence seeping away from her.

He didn't really want to be as mean as he knew he was, but he didn't want to stand there for hours and hours just to try to save her feelings with lots of yapping about how it wasn't something she had done, but that it were all his fault, and how he hoped they could still be friends when what he really wanted was her away from his life faster than a sinner from church.

"Oh my God, are you dumping me for that girl Ziva!?"

"Oh come on Jeanne, don't even start. Maybe I just think we don't fit together anymore."

"And where is this coming from? I thought we were the perfect couple!"

"Stop that."

"Don't you care at _all_ about what I think about us breaking up…"

Tony stopped feeling bad when she went all Drama Queen on him. He knew some screaming was to expect from her in the not-at-all-distant future, and he really wasn't in the mood to listen to his now ex-girlfriend yelling at him for breaking up with her in a bad way. Oh seriously. He felt himself rolling his eyes before he said to her in a collected and even voice;

"I honestly don't want to be your boyfriend anymore, and I don't think we need to stay friends after this." _Yeah Tony, make sure __**she gets the message**__._

She stared at him angrily, before storming off. And he had never been happier to see her backside.

* * *

><p>"Hey Doug, have you seen Ziva?" Tony asked one of his brain-dead best friends. But he quickly noticed how incredibly drunk Doug was, and suddenly he like an outsider - he had never been the lone sober one at a party as big as this. He didn't know right away if the feeling was pleasant or unwelcomed; the only thing he was sure of was that he wouldn't get anything from his friend tonight.<p>

"Y-yes, that hot chick you've been hanging around with for days and days and days…"

"YES, Doug! Her! Where is she!?"

"I've _seen_ her alright; she was all over me for fuck's sake!" The teenager was giggling like a schoolgirl, and when he tried to drink from his almost-empty, blue cup with beer, his shaking hand poured the whole beverage over his mouth and chin. He tried to dry it with his hand as best he could, but it didn't go so well. He pulled his hand over his shorts. "Yeeess, she KISSED _meh_."

"_What?_"

But Tony wouldn't get more than that from Doug - he was so confused and Tony was pretty sure that he was just about to go into the five stages of incredibly drunk people. And since Tony had seen it happen more than once before (honestly more times than he would ever want to), so he threw his friends' arm over his own shoulders and helped him away from all the people, and then home.

**The Next Chapter - will involve a Tony-going-to-Ziva's-in-the-middle-of-the-night and maybe… a confession. Or two.**


	9. Unhappy

**Chapter 9, Unhappy**

"I'm not as blind as you may think  
>And I'm tired of all that is<br>And I know that this time it's not all in my head

You look a little unhappy, 'bout the way the world is turning  
>Is there anything I can do?"<p>

"Oh Tony, thanks so much for coming home with my little guy. Though he's not so little anymore, when he gets dragged home by his best friend because he's too drunk to walk by himself ... And not for the first time, either. I need to have a serious talk with him."

Well, Tony Doug's mother meant well, but he also knew it would take so much more than a good talking to get Doug to stop getting drunk every Friday night. Tony was kind of disappointed over his friend when he didn't have half a goal for the future; but what could Tony do about it? "Heh, it's cool Mrs. Parsons. See ya'."

Tony walked out from Doug's foul-smelling room, and through the front door which he had closed so many times in the past. The house that he walked out of had been his second home during the long nights Gibbs had worked overtime when they were ten.

Outside it was relatively light to be almost 2 a.m. Tony couldn't quite understand how he could have spent so many hours at that party; talk about wasted time. Of course it had taken its sweet time get Doug home from the beach (with him bragging about all those video games his brother had finished for him, about kissing Ziva –what? – and about eating five bags of Doritos in one sitting), but anyway.

He took out his cell phone to check the correct time, 1:31. When he saw the white numbers on the black background which was his screensaver, he could only think of one thing - it's not too late that he couldn't visit her, but it was still late enough to cover it with "a choice taken too late night."

The only bad thing was that Jenny's apartment was on the other side of town. And he wasn't awake enough to drag himself all the way over there. He'd probably collapse after ten minutes. No. No. He had to see her; he couldn't possibly give up without a fight. It's not that far really, if he takes a bus. Or two. Or maybe if he calls Gibbs, because he wouldn't find any buses. Yeah, that seems like a good idea.

He pressed a couple of numbers of his cellphone and soon the dial tone sounded, and Gibbs' voice answers with a stern mention of his last name.

"Hey Gibbs, are you still at work?"

"Coffee break. Why?"

"Could you pick me up at Doug's?"

"I'll be there in five."

* * *

><p>One good thing about Gibbs was that he never asked Tony where he was or what he had done all night anymore; he trusted Tony enough to believe that the boy didn't get himself knee-deep in trouble… anymore. Because he couldn't deny how wild he'd been just last year, before both Gibbs and Jenny had sat down with him and had one of those talks that Doug needed. But Tony had always had his head in the right place, so he listened to their serious words. It had lasted a long while, but eventually he became better at keeping himself from drinking so much. And since he realized he wanted to become an agent like Gibbs, he hardly drank at all.<p>

Thought it did sometimes happen that he, Doug, Marcus and Johnny consumed one too many beers while playing _Need for Speed: Undercover _and _Assassin_ on Doug's brothers' Playstation 3. Usually after such an incident, the four buddies would sleep off their intoxication on the couch and bed in Doug's room, and sometimes even the floor in the hallway of the Parsons' upper floor – Tony always waking up to a shirt covered in ill-colored drool and a pressing need to pee. After that they would all shovel down Doug's trusty hangover cure - Froot Loops soaking in Mountain Dew and a little cough syrup.

After they had all taken turns in hurling, they would feel fine and leave, or repeat.

Tony had to smile a little at the memory of the nights he'd spent with his best buds pouring the beers down their throats like they were drinking water in the desert, and laughing unnecessarily loudly about everything. Even though the morning after is always bad, the nights were always worth it. Though it had been a while since they did it last.

Another good thing with Gibbs was that he never lied about the time he'd arrive; almost exactly ten minutes had passed when his cars' passenger door stopped right in front of Tony and he slipped onto the cool leather seats.

Gibbs got up to an unbelievably high speed before Tony even closed the car door. "Jesus, Gibbs!"

"I've got work."

"Well, you didn't have to come and get me, y'know. I could've walked." But he didn't get a reply from the older man. Tony couldn't help to wonder about what case they were working on that was so important. Or seemed important. Gibbs rarely got this unsettled. "What're you working on?"

"Can't tell ya'."

Of course.

"Why? Is there a new serial killer or something?"

"Yeah, and the media was able to keep their hands of it."

Tony rolled his eyes, feeling tired of Gibbs being like this whenever a bigger case was under investigation. So instead of pressing the older man for information, Tony just tried to nonchalantly say, "Well, can you drop me off at Jenny's?"

Gibbs actually turned his head at this. It might not have been one of the things he'd expected to hear from his foster boy when the clock ticked closer and closer to two a.m. He raised his eyebrow higher than humanly possible before he asked, "Why? Take a look at the time and get back to me." His eyes were back on the road and his voice was colder than ice.

"I know very well what the time it is, Gibbs, thank you very much. And turn left there, it's shorter."

"You didn't answer me on why you're going there."

"But I don't know!"

"Haven't I told you a thousand times that you better treat Ziva better than you usually treat girls. She can kill you before you reply with a blink. Don't question it and don't take risks. You could lose your life."

"Oh, Gibbs, c'mon. She's not that bad. I've hugged her lots of times and I'm still alive. She's not immune to human touch-"

"That's not what I said. I told you not to treat her badly if you wanna keep your fingers."

Tony rolled his eyes. "If I lose 'em, I'll buy you a coke."

Gibbs had to let out a snort. "I'm lookin' forward to it."

He stopped in front of Jenny and Ziva's apartment building, and looked over at Tony. "Just don't do anything you'll regret."

* * *

><p>Tony stood in front of the entrance for quite a long while after Gibbs had speeded away (if it had been a cartoon, a big cloud of dust would've been created behind the car). But Tony couldn't go inside quite yet, because he was unsure of himself - something he was so rarely that he knew this was serious. Was this a good choice? Would he – like Gibbs had indicated – regret it?<p>

Of course, in his eyes, nothing could be bad or wrong as long as Ziva was involved. And he liked her so much that he couldn't deny it anymore, not even in the privacy of his own head. And he hoped beyond anything in the known world, that maybe, maybe she felt the same.

He reached out his hand towards the door and was just about to pull it to him, but it didn't move an inch closer. He pulled harder - again and again. "Oh damn it." Of course it's locked, it's way past ten p.m. He was going to have to get buzzed in. And for that to happen he had to call the apartment.

So, Tony weighed the pros and cons of the situation, but really he only could come up with cons. Like, what if she was asleep? Or what if she really didn't want to see him?

Or even worse, what if she wasn't even home?

He suddenly felt a very pressing need to press the button connected to Jenny's apartment five times really fast, to prove himself wrong on the last unanswered question. So he did. Then he repeated until Ziva's annoyed and slightly sleepy voice answered, _"Yes I am here, okay? Who is it?"_

He felt a tidal wave of relief and satisfaction (and a little fear) coming over him as he pressed the button again to reply, "Oh, sorry Zi, did I wake you?" He let go of the button.

Silence.

"_Tony? What are you doing here?"_

_Press. _"I don't know. Can I come up?" _Let go. _He got kind of nervous when she didn't answer instantly, or even when a few minutes had passed, and he started to sway a little from side to side in impatience.

But then a long, loud buzz and the door unlocking brought a smile to his face and he quickly pulled the door open and went inside.

When he arrived at the fifth floor, Ziva was already standing in the doorway, wearing orange sweatpants and a t-shirt that said something in Arabic, with her hair in a knot on the top of her head. She had obviously changed all her clothes and removed her makeup after she came home. She looked casual, but Tony thought she was still so perfect. She wasn't smiling, but Tony didn't think she looked angry about him coming there. When he reached her she spoke in her most sarcastic voice she could muster,

"Did you forget the way home?"

"If only. This is strictly a decision I'm still kind of unsure of." He smiled.

"Well come in then." She swung the door wide open, silently inviting him inside. Then she turned around and walked into the apartment, and asked him to lock the door.

Tony suddenly felt very confident, and followed her into the cool, Air Conditioned apartment. Which happened to be very clean. He dragged the door shut behind him, pulled down the handle to check that it was locked and then he proceeded into the kitchen where she was.

She stood at the counted, but she didn't do anything. He wondered what she was thinking about, and what could make her stunned like that. "Hey, Zee-Vah."

But she was just as attentive as before, looked up at him and said "Yes, _An_thony."

"Are you angry about me being here? I mean, I can leave." Well, he could_. _That didn't mean he wanted to. Or that he felt that he should.

"No, no I am not angry. Somewhat surprised, yes. Do you have a specific reason for coming here so late? Or should I say early?"

"Actually no. I just wanted to see you."

She was clearly confused by this. If the sentence wouldn't have been as simple as it had been, he would have wondered if her foreign brain didn't get some of the words he's spoken, or if she was wondering over a way of speech. Her eyebrows were brought closer together, and her hands had to busy themselves with something; they pulled the string in her sweatpants. She wasn't looking at him as much as she was looking at the air right beside his right eye, and Tony felt like maybe he had made her speechless.

He just hoped she wouldn't stop speaking for the coming three months.

"So what were you doing before I came over?" He tried to ask her something casual, to make her more comfortable with the situation.

She had recovered, and replied with a flick with her chin towards the television, where something was on mute, but Tony couldn't see what. "I was watching TV."

"Oh, TV! You know how I like the flickering box. What were you watching?" He had turned around to see if he recognized what was happening on the screen, but he wasn't sure what he was watching.

"Something on NBC, I do not know what it is about since I have only seen a few minutes, but it seems like a very nice show." She looked at the floor.

"Ah, cool." Tony turned around and looked at her again. He was at loss for words to say to her, and he wondered if he should just confess the feelings he had about her right away, and spare them both some time. But he didn't feel confident enough about that yet; but he did ask, "So, did you like the party?"

"Oh sure."

He felt that the answer was kind of mocking to him, in a way. Apparently she had kissed his best friend and she couldn't even tell him. But then again, Tony was probably overreacting – but he wouldn't know that ye. "Did something _nice_ happen after we _parted ways_?"

"Not particularly, I left quite early actually. Why, did something happen to you?"

"No."

"Okay."

It was quiet again. The kind of awkward quiet that never had occurred between them before. She was drawing circles in the breadcrumbs on the breakfast bar that was in the middle of the kitchen when he couldn't handle it anymore.

"I know you kissed Doug!"

She was surprised, but she didn't back away or deny it. "Well, yes. But what does it matter to you?"

Tony's eyes opened wide, and he stared at her in a state of excessive anger "_Well_, he just happens to be my best friend, that's what! And why would you kiss him, he's a douche!"

"I thought you just said you were best friends, why would you call him that?"

Tony felt some kind of anger building up inside him.

"Well it's the truth! _Why_ did you do it?"

"I do not know, it was in the … what do you say… warmth of the while?"

"Heat of the MOMENT, Ziva!"

So, Tony knew very well that the whole thing probably had happened in the heat of the moment because Doug had been drunk and she had been surprised by Tony having a girlfriend, and she most likely hadn't done it to hurt him or his feelings - but Tony couldn't look at it objectively at the time being.

"And also Ziva, I don't like you walkin' around kissing all of my friends the second I leave you alone for a moment, it's insulting to me and frankly, you're just embarrassing yourself! And why didn't you come and tell me you were leaving the party? That was a real bitch-move from your side, and not cool at all. Also-"

Ziva got kind of insulted right about then, "TONY! Why are you so angry about this?! I am sorry I did not tell you goodbye before I walked home, but I was a tired and did not feel like spending time there, and I saw you walk away with Jeanne, so I thought you would not notice, or get this upset!", She felt all her feelings of Tony and Jeanne and everything just touching the surface of her speech. She knew she could blurt all of it out to him and confess everything, but she knew she wasn't ready or that. And she also knew that he wouldn't be.

She decided she wouldn't.

But then he yelled pretty loudly,

"Oh, don't FLATTER yourself! I'm NOT **upset** about you _LEAVING_, I just had to know where you were because, oh, that's right, GIBBS PAYS ME TO LOOK AFTER YOU! HE and Jenny BOTH asked me to BABY-SIT you when you came here! So I don't care whether you LEAVE OR NOT, but I gotta know or I WON'T GET PAID."

The quiet was so unbearable when he stopped yelling. The truth was out there now. Naked, raw, unwelcome.

Tony felt like crying when Ziva looked him deep in the eye, with her own filling up with tears and said,

"What?"

**The Next Chapter - will involve another horrific truth.**


	10. For Heaven's Sake

**Chapter 10, For Heaven's Sake**

"For heaven's sake there's more at stake  
>Then we may ever learn<br>More footsteps to hold onto and corners to be turned  
>Like weeping violins, you tremble and you shake<br>Don't dwell on the future for it's miles away."

* * *

><p>"<em>What?"<em>

Tony's blood froze like water in December, and he suddenly felt like all those head-slaps Gibbs had given him through the years were not enough punishment to cover even a word of what he had just said. He also felt the realization of what the older man had warned him about earlier, creeping into the light from where it had been hiding, and he felt every fiber of himself regretting everything about this visit to Jenny's apartment. He hoped he'd live long enough to say good bye to Abby and tell her how much of a living hell she had made his life for the past ten years. Then he thought a second of his biological father.

And then he felt his heart sinking. Because Ziva's eyes didn't dry up. The tears in them didn't spill over, but neither did they go away. Was she really going to cry?

Oh God. What had he done?

"Ziva, I didn't mean it I was just so-" He tried to apologize – he spoke so fast that he stumbled over his words.

"It is fine." She looked down. He saw her hand being brought up to her eye and it looked like she wiped away a tear.

No. NO.

"It's not fine! I'm sorry, please listen to me, I-"

"Tony, look, it is okay. I am glad you finally confessed. Now would you please leave?" She was so calm (nothing like Jeanne would have been) and walked over to the door and opened it for him, indicating that the only right thing he could do would be leaving her alone in the badly lit apartment. She even picked up his shoes from the floor and held them out to him when he approached. He took them while trying to say something more, to give her a real apology.

The poor attempt of asking forgiveness was interrupted again. This time by her small, but strong, hands on his chest, pushing him out the door while giving out small sounds he realized were sobs. He tried to resist her strength, but he couldn't. She just pushed and pushed until he was enough outside to slam the door in his face. He heard the locking of the door and the rustling of the chain being secured, before his soul broke in half.

He heard a series of sobs from the other side of the door; he heard her body sliding down the length of the door to the floor. He did the same on his side of the wooden barrier between them, and leaned his head onto his knees which were pressed to his body.

Her sobs hadn't stopped an hour and a half later - at four thirty - when Tony finally stood up, and walked out from the building with a big, grey cloud of shame and regret above him.

_Oh God. What had he done?_

* * *

><p>Abby wipes the sweat from her forehead before she puts the key in the lock and turns it. It's at least a hundred degrees outside, and the heavy jet-black hoodie she has decorated her body with isn't helping the situation the slightest. Her military-green shoulder bag had been driving her crazy the whole way from Tim's to home, with its heavy bouncing on her leg. She sighed and looks down at her watch on her left wrist while she pushes the door open, but her head jerks up when she's met with the worst smell she's had to endure in a long while. Her hand flies up to her face and her thumb and index finger squeezes her nostrils together, and her eyebrows are brought together in confusion. She doesn't even bother to close the door the whole way before she hurries into the living room where her brother is slouched on the couch, with all kinds if liquor in front of him on the coffee table.<p>

She's very confused. And disgusted. "Anthony Daniel DiNozzo!"

"'Scuse meh?" He looks up at her.

She knows he's drunk when he doesn't ask why she comes home at eight a.m. And the booze on the table gives her a pretty good idea. "What the HELL are you doing? Where's dad?" Yeah, because Gibbs would never allow this from Tony.

"Donno." The drunken one replies. "Donno."

"Oh God…" Abby whispers, partly disgusted from the smell and sight, partly worried for her brother. "I'm calling Gibbs. And you're sobering up!" She didn't even bother to play the 'it's eight AM why are you drinking'-card, because she knew it wouldn't make any difference.

She struggles to find her phone and get Gibbs' number on the display while cleaning up all the bottles and cans from the table. When she finally hears the dial tone, she presses the phone onto her ear and she secures it with her shoulder, so that she could use both her hands. Tony complains like a baby being taken from its bottle when she rips one of their dad's bourbon bottles from the loose grip he has on it - Abby has done this before. Though she wouldn't deny that she had hoped she'd never have to again. The beeps just keep coming from the phone, and she's disappointed that Gibbs has broken his own rule about never being unreachable, and that she would now have to take care of Tony herself.

But as said before, she had done it before.

She threw the phone on the other couch where Tony wasn't laying miserably, and she carries all the collected alcohol containers into the kitchen, and into the sink they go. She puts on a big pot of incredibly strong coffee before she marches back into the living room, so very determined. Her brother hasn't moved an inch, and she gets even more pissed off. While the rage builds up inside of her, she pulls him up and swings his arm over her shoulders. He can barely walk by himself, but she can still drag him to the bathroom, where she turns the shower on. The temperature knob is turned all the way to the right, and she feels with her hand how cold the water is. If this won't wake him from his funk, she's not entirely sure what will.

She gathers all the strength she has stored in her rather small body, and pushes him mercilessly under the cold water stream. The whole front of her hoodie is drenched, but it's nothing like what Tony is in a couple of seconds. His hair glued to his face and the shirt he wore to the party last night just as wet as it had been on that day of the wet t-shirt contest he'd attended with Kate.

Oh, Kate. Maybe she knew something about this.

But before she could get to calling Kate, her phone rings with the tune she has chosen for her dad. She instantly answers, and doesn't even bother to say 'hello' or ask about the case, she just goes straight to their problem. "Tony's drunk like an Irishman on St Patrick's Day. I think you need to come home."

Gibbs doesn't answer his daughter, he just ends the call. Abby knows he's really, really angry.

* * *

><p>It's been roughly five minutes since they spoke.<p>

"Where the **hell** is he?!"

_Gibbs has a very strong voice_, Abby notes as she comes out from the kitchen and into the hallway where her father stands. She has changed out of her hoodie now, into a dry and nice pajama shirt with Sesame Street characters all over it. It looks awfully good with her black jeans; she had thought when she had pulled it on. The top three buttons are undone, and the sleeves were pulled up her elbows. "I pushed him in the shower."

Abby almost had to laugh when she thought of how many times she had said that to him. She remembered the time before Tony stopped partying, when she did this ritual almost every weekend, sometimes even twice. Gibbs was always mad, but he wouldn't always show it by yelling at Tony or scolding him, sometimes it was just the silent treatment for a day or four. Well, now that Gibbs was home to take care of everything, she didn't have to do anything more, thank _God_, so she went back into her room to unpack her overnight bag and call Timmy.

Gibbs' angry steps were heard throughout the whole house like an elephant marching through the jungle, and Tony – who was sober enough to talk and think normally – got kind of scared, because he knew what Gibbs was capable of doing if he felt like he had to.

Tony had stepped out of the shower cabinet without turning off the water, and he sat on the toilet lid, fully clothed, dripping water everywhere. His head was sulking, but he looked up when the older man angrily opened the door and stood in the doorway, staring at the poor boy.

Then he reached his hand into the shower and turned off the water stream; the silence was almost petrifying. Gibbs stood before Tony and looked down on him, but his eye wasn't judging anymore. Only concerned, and pissed. "What have you done now?"

"What makes you think I did something?" Tony's head was pounding.

"You watch Oprah when somebody's done something to _you_ –when _you're_ the victim. And I don't see Oprah on the TV."

"Oh," Tony scratches his head and agrees with Gibbs, "Yeah… I guess that's what happens…"

"_So_? I haven't got all day, DiNozzo."

Tony feels kind of broken inside. Like someone's walking around in there with a scissor, cutting up all his organs and being extra violent with his heart. The last thing he wants to do is tell Gibbs what happened just a few hours ago, but he knows he doesn't have much of a choice. "I might have… ruined stuff with Ziva."

"What do you mean?"

"I kind of told her about our deal… and I might have said that I was her babysitter... and that you paid me to…y'know."

Gibbs' gaze suddenly lost all the concern, and was now all pissed. "You did **WHAT**?"

"Don't make me say it again…" Tony whispered under his breath. He felt his body temperature sinking because you the cold and wet clothes and he knew he was only minutes away from his teeth chattering.

Of course, Gibbs had read his mind and snarled, "Go get dressed, then come downstairs. Three minutes." Then the older man exited the room and went back down into the kitchen.

He noticed the coffee Abby had made, and checked to pot to see if it was still hot and good to drink. To his knowledge, it was, and he pulled out two mugs from a shelf above him and poured coffee into both of them until it almost spilled over. He took out two aspirin from the medicine cabinet and put them beside one of the mugs on the table for Tony. When the teen appeared in the kitchen, Gibbs only signaled for him to sit down.

Tony sat down and instantly swallowed the pills; he didn't even wash them down with anything. Then he looked at his mug of coffee and said in his most annoyed voice, "You know I hate coffee, Gibbs."

"Drink it."

Well, Tony wasn't one to question or even speak back at Gibbs, ever, but especially when he was this angry, so he grabbed the handle and drank half of the stuff in the cup in one swig. It tasted horrible, his head had some weird spasm and he squeezed his eyes shut. When he finally opened them again he just saw Gibbs staring at him, still angry, and Tony knew it was time to start talking.

"So last night when we were at that party, Ziva and I got separated and she kissed Doug. I don't know how it happened, but I was kinda bitter about it because Doug bragged about it when I dragged him home, so when I went to Jenny's I wanted to confront her on it, which I did, but then it just escalated from there. And she did explain it and all and she wasn't to blame for anything, and who am I anyway to tell her who she can kiss or not? But I got really angry and I told her all about the deal I have with you and Jenny. And I hurt her, Gibbs. And I tried to apologize, I honestly did, but she wouldn't listen. Not that I'd expect that from her after all the stupid things I said but-"

"Okay, stop there DiNozzo. All this happened, and you came home and drank my bourbon? You've never acted like this over a girl before, Tony." Gibbs soulful eyes stared at Tony, and he wasn't able to lie. Not that anybody ever was able to lie to Gibbs; it's not humanly possible.

"I just felt so bad after what I said… she didn't deserve that. And after she kicked me out I listened to her crying for over an hour. I tried to knock and call her phone and everything, but she didn't respond in any way. I was totally ready to start banging on the door and threaten to kick it in, but it was like four in the morning and it's an apartment building. I didn't wanna make a bigger fool of myself."

Gibbs took a sip from his coffee (without having a neck spasm) and said into the mug, "I don't think that's possible."

Tony knew he was right.

"So what should I do?"

There was a pause. Gibbs had that look on his face he has when he has to make up his mind about something. But then he spoke the complete truth,

"Well, you need to do something. 'Cause Ziva's going back to Israel next week."

And now it was Tony's turn to look miserable and confused and say, "What?"

* * *

><p>"Ziva David!" Tony yelled through the door. He was back at Jenny's apartment, this time with a headache that wasn't cured by the aspirin, and a very bad feeling in his chest. "I don't CARE if you're sleeping or in the shower or whatever just OPEN THE DOOR." His voice was loud, he knew the neighbors heard him.<p>

The door was unlocked a minute later, and Jenny stood in the doorway. She was wearing a robe, and she looked so tired that Tony knew she probably just woke up. Her eyes were annoyed, and her lips were pressed into a thin line. She wasn't happy.

"Gibbs called me." She said. "And Anthony, I do love you, you belong in the family, but how _dare_ you?! To say that to anyone should be a crime, but saying that to Ziva?"

"I know I was an idiot. A jerk. Horrible. I'm a bad person, but where is Ziva?" He wasn't sure why he felt out of breath.

"Where you found her."

Jenny looked at him with some sympathy, but she closed the door and Tony was left standing alone in the doorway, the door only inches away from his face.

Where he found her.

* * *

><p>He had run like a champion down to their bench, and very well, there she was sitting all alone, with her notebook and her dark clothes. Like the way he had found her so many weeks ago. He had slowed down to walking when he had spotted her mop of curly hair, but still somehow he got closer and closer anyway, and he soon arrived there beside her.<p>

Now he had to disturb her peace and quiet.

Well if he's going to keep ruining her life, he might as well be comfortable. He sat down right beside her and looked at her face. "Zee?"

"Tony, I would like it if you did not bother with you half-hearted apologies. I will be leaving soon, in any case, so you will forget me faster than you got to know me. Okay?"

_Okay, that hurt_. "Ziva, I am so sorry for everything I said, I didn't mean a word of it! Maybe that was how it all started out, but it's not like that anymore, not even a little!" His voice almost broke in several places when he spoke, but he knew he had to keep going. Maybe he could talk her out of leaving. God knows he couldn't handle knowing her but suddenly not being able to seeing her. "Please don't go." It was almost a whisper.

She looked at him then. Maybe she wanted to look for the honesty in his eyes by herself, or maybe she just didn't like to talk to people without looking at them, but Tony almost broke when he saw her red eyes and puffy eyelids. Had he seriously made her cry that much?

But of course she read his mind, sniffled and repeated his word from earlier, "Do not flatter yourself," she wiped away some wetness from under her eyes before continuing, "I am not crying over you." _That much, _she wanted to add. But she didn't.

"Then why do you look like somebody killed your cat?" He asked, not completely sure if he wanted to know the answer.

But his words had woken something inside of Ziva. Her rage, maybe. Or her need to protect herself. She stood up from the bench and started pacing in front of him while she spoke. "Well, maybe I do not want to leave America, Tony! Maybe I like it here, maybe I feel safe here! Maybe I just want something to matter again, and Tony, you matter to me. But you hurt me more than I would like to admit, those were just words, but I cannot help how I feel!" Her voice was raised, then she pointed at her eyes. "So I look like this, because I am going back home!"

"W-why?"

"My father _demanded_ me home. There is an assignment in Mossad he would like me to take. And no, I do not want to take it, because I think it is a suicide mission, but I ACCEPTED! After you left – yes I KNOW YOU were outside the door – I called Eli and told him the news, and _he was delighted_. Like it was the best thing in years to happen to him! His daughter taking on the most dangerous-" She felt so frustrated she sat back down for a second, but she stood up again and went to stand right in front of Tony. "Do you KNOW how that feels? My own father wants me dead! I have always known I would never be Ari or Tali, but I suppose all this time I hoped that maybe I could be _me_!  
>And you told me you did not even really want to spend time with me at all, and that just makes me feel so. Much. Better."<p>

There was silence between them for a long while.

Then Tony had to say something.

"Okay, I know I've been a jerk, but Ziva, I love spending time with you! Honestly, you're pretty much the best thing that's ever happened to me since I discovered how good pepperoni pizza is." He stood up to be on the same level as her, so he wouldn't feel so minor. "And I wish you'd call your dad and tell him how you won't be coming back home anymore, because I'm gonna tell you something now which I hope will make you—" Make her what? Stay? Well obviously. But something else too.

"But honestly, Ziva, since I met you, I've never wanted anything as much as I wanted…" His hand enveloped the side of her face, and he looked her right in the eyes, looking for the answers to the big questions in life in the pools of brown, then he kept going. "… as I wanted for you to _keep breathing_. And you did. And you will. No matter what you choose to do, I'll stand by you. I might not be happy about it, but… I will do what you need me to do. Whatever that might be." _But please don't leave me._

Her eyes got moist again. She looked down onto their feet, which were unusually close together, and she cursed America for making her so soft, and she said, "I—I have to go back, Tony. My father will not have me changing my mind now that I've promised. But, I am sorry.  
>I wish I could stay."<p>

* * *

><p><strong>AN Since I have no more inspiration for this story anymore, this'll be the end. Thanks so much for reading, I've loved all the reviews.**


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